#I NEED TO MAKE AN AUNTIE ANNE POST TOO
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Uncle Tim 🥰💕
#UNCLE TIMMY#🥰🥰🥰#THE SWEETEST UNCLE#AND THE SWEETEST CINNAMON ROLL#HE LOVES CATHERINE WILLIAM BEA LOUISE AND JAMES THE MOST#IT'S SO CUTE#😭😭😭#THE BEST UNCLE EVER#tim laurence#timothy laurence#prince william#prince of wales#catherine middleton#princess of wales#princess beatrice#lady louise windsor#james viscount severn#princess eugenie#prince harry#I NEED TO MAKE AN AUNTIE ANNE POST TOO#princess anne#princess royal#brf#british royal family#my gifs#posts
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SO-6: And Then There's THIS Asshole!
If there's a lot of engagement on this, this post is liable to get real long, beware before you expand.
I'll edit in the real art once I make some!
Welcome to the Engagement Lounge, for Life with David (SO-6) an instalment! Short comments can go in the replies, but there's a 475 character limit. Longer ones will need a reblog. Remember to @asksoldieron if you're reblogging someone else's reblog, so I can see it too!
(I love Bloom County. I'd need footnotes to get a lot of the political humour, but it's still worth reading... Can't speak for the reboot, I mean the original. Although Steve's arc was... Wow. Yikes. If Milo Bloom's look is a little familiar... Yep, that's where I got it from!)
If you read from the beginning, you suspected they meant THAT David, and when Erik checks in on him, you know it. But either way, this is the first you'll meet this version of him. He's... Not easy to work with.
So who, or what, is that? My official response is, and will remain:
The characters will make up their own minds, much as they do with Milo and Ann. And they are under no obligation to agree with each other!
This is one of the many reasons not to work with the gods. David is everything turned up to 11, and an experienced person would not call him, but they're all like that a little. They have a few things they care about to the point of distraction and everything else can go to hell. And some of them will send you there!
Auntie Enora has a Compelling Voice too, and it's possible that power is standard issue, but so far nobody in-story has put it to use like David. Wherever he goes, even if it's just a version of him, he will move fast and break things. As an Invisible, that will get you marginalized and ignored...
Unless someone really desperate and stupid needs just about everything you're able/willing to do. And if he's cute, too, well, hey!
John is... not in a good place. Not strategically or emotionally. Erik would probably be a better friend and help to him... If he could. But as far as John knows, if Erik figures out what's going on, he will just leave, with no ambivalence about it. Erik can't tell him he's figured it out over and over again and doesn't know what to do either. Communications breakdown!
Oh, but, so far, David's having a blast!
The gumballs have made another belated appearance, as a last resort for awkward social situations. We'll see them in use in the next six.
Now I'm all caught up with SO, and I'll have to go back and put up some posts for TS as I illustrate, or as the spirit moves me. Since the future of my eyeballs and how long I'll be laid up is still in doubt, I'm focusing on making sure I get the maximum number of upcoming instalments illustrated and ready to go, first. See ya tomorrow!
[Back to the Site?]
#tin soldier and soldier on#instalment#engagement lounge#david is a terrible friend#however he is also a very loyal friend#he's doing his best!#and that's terrifying
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I have celiac too possibly (we at least know I can't tolerate gluten and if it gets in my system my joints hurt, I'm fatigued, mood issues, etc.) They now say 1 in 100 people are being diagnosed (used to be 1 in 10000 i believe?). And even the number i have could be old
I feel so much better off gluten that I don't necessarily mind, but I also would change it if I could. I crave foods I cant eat. My joints still hurt at times without gluten, but I cant confirm its related. I've been invited to so many places and then get told "oh sorry" because the people "forgot" and all I could eat was ice. My own boyfriend, ex now, told me it was too high maintenance. I would absolutely change it.
The thing i miss most is food. Auntie Anne's pretzels are one of them. I've made good alternative cinnamon rolls and baked goods so im ok there. But never a good enough pretzel
Oh, nonnie🫂
That sounds like coeliacs disease to me too (or at the VERY least, gluten sensitivity). If I get it in my system, which is admittedly rare for me because I’m borderline paranoid about my food because I know what’s gonna happen to me if I’m complacent and I’d like to avoid that at absolutely ALL costs, then it’s a special kind of hell. I could literally develop cancer just from having gluten in my system one (1) time. It’s terrifying.
I understand, being diagnosed with coeliacs disease freed me from the worst physical pain I’ve ever felt, but it also made my life so much harder. Even feeling better on a gluten-free diet, this disease has so many complications and I have to have blood tests every six months to make sure I’m as healthy as I can be for someone with an autoimmune disease, and most days I don’t even think about it because I’m so used to it. But this morning I woke up angry and upset and grieving, so I needed to vent about it; which is why I made that post.
I feel like the social isolation and exclusion isn’t something people think about when they invite people with coeliacs disease or other food allergies out to eat; we don’t WANT to live like this but we have to, and it’s very lonely and expensive and painful. I’m so sorry you’ve had those experiences. I’ve had people do similar or they’ve offered to accommodate for me and buy gluten free food, and then complain while I’m eating it how expensive it is and it’s such a “bother” and it just ruins everything and makes me feel guilty so now I tend to just turn down social invitations because I’d have more fun at home on my own. I’m so sorry your ex-boyfriend told you it was high maintenance?!!! What an ass!!! You deserved better, I’m so sorry nonnie🫂
Your Auntie’s pretzels sound amazing!! My grandmother makes amazing sausage rolls which I loved as a child and I’ll forever mourn I can’t have them anymore. I miss food. I mourn all the foods I’ll never get to try.💔
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Jumu'ah Khuthbah: 13 May 2022
The glaring life lessons of the week were as follows, which will begin to explain why Ammu Apa chose to focus on Al-Khaliq as The Creator, of Allah's 99 names - bismillah...
#1. Was a beautiful reminder by Shaykh Abdal Hakim Murad on the day of Eid al-Fitr of 2022. We learnt through Ramadan that sabr is entirely possible as we are made to triumph over our base desires of the nafs.
He made an astute observation where the Quran is the book of nature with numerous references in it to nature, as well as represented by Prophet Muhammad's (SAW) green dome in Madinah Al-Munawwara (the luminous city). The modern world has been in war with nature and Climate change is a sign of it, of the endless desires of the nafs. Our role as humanity therefore has to be to become greeners and cultivators of this Earth. It is why we've progressed to honouring Al-Khaliq insha'Allah, in our Haqqiqa Madressa.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=5JuAERjKy6Y&feature=youtu.be
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#2. Was a lived reality in our tendency to forget as insan, which denotes this very tendency! At the end of an enriched Ramadan, instead of completing my devotions - was I swept into making Johnny Depp and Amber Heard's public spat my business! Unlike Hansie Cronje as Shaykh Nishaat joked about; I didn't only blame Shaytaan, my nafs was right there and of equal blame.
He reminded that we need to be conscious and fight this tendency to be forgetful because ultimately we will be accountable to Allah. There is no excuse or escape from meeting our responsibilities. An upgrade is needed in ourselves when we fall by accepting and acknowledging our mistakes, and moving on!
https://www.humanisthme.org/concept-human-insan/?lang=en
#3. Was I made to transcend Mother's Day as a severely commercialised outcome; in not only being able to honour my Ammu as your Nanu, Anne as our spiritual mother but your Abbu as being your half-Ammu when I was in hospital! Subhana'Allah, where Allah enables us to assume various roles in the face of complexity. Just as your Auntie Sadia is being blessed to discover. I must also acknowledge you beauties, in honouring me as your semi-functional Ammu too:
Ya Shakur Ya Wadud
https://tasmiq.tumblr.com/post/683684112142401536/mothers-day-2022
#4. Then Shaykh Nishaat reminded about the essential need to be present and aware in every moment, which involves our hearts and minds.
We must see Allah in every day transactions as Allah sharing Himself with us. Allah is present in the moment; although it's good to communicate with Him, we reach a stage where we don't even communicate our needs as we are in awe of Allah - as the profound story of Layla and Majnun. As further reflected both by Shaykh Nishaat and mureed Raeesa, seeing with eyes of gratitude opens our hearts and minds - especially when facing difficulties.
For the mystic this intense inner identification with the Beloved becomes a state in which the Beloved is seen everywhere in the inner and outer worlds, until finally one reaches the stage in which "Wheresoever you turn, there is the face of God."(14)
https://goldensufi.org/love-is-fire-and-i-am-wood-layla-and-majnun-as-a-sufi-allegory-of-mystical-love/
#5. Alhamdulillah that I have officially embarked on my Clooox course on "The Whole-Brain Child" to be mentored by your Abbu, with strict surrender as one of his PhD students 😅 I said that I often only subject myself to reading when acquiring a degree or when working, or I have serious mentorship. Alhamdulillah the latter is a reality and with the drive to create a richer relationship with you tots, I happily and gratefully surrendered.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=4rB3vRPNpXE&feature=youtu.be
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Finally for dua'a that your Abbu returns safely in our arms, to hear this with all his own senses - as we've been learning. Including ability, fulfillment and success with our Clooox venture!
Ya Wadud Ya Salaam Ya Jami Ya Nafi
Ya Mudtadir Ya Qadir
Ya Ghalib Ya Azim
Ya Shakur
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I am so excited to finally be posting this for y’all! Thank you so much for all the hype and support it is very much appreciated. :) this is my piece for @goldenbluesuit‘s Christmas Fic Challenge! my prompt was the song “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?” from the movie Frozen and I hope you all enjoy how I’ve incorporated it into my Dad!Harry series. You don’t necessarily have to read the other parts to understand this one, but I’ll link them below in case you want to re-visit them.
I Want Your Belly ❄ Wonderful and Warm ❄ Washed Away in You
Thank you to @tbslenthusiast and @heartbreakweatherharry for reading over this for me and giving me such amazing feedback!
Word count: 2.3k
You still couldn’t believe the little wonder that had been created by you and Harry existed to be yours. Things hadn’t been perfect, far from it, but it was definitely a new and fun adventure you were both eager and terrified of.
The first challenge presented was finding a name perfect enough to fit your son. He was alive for 24 hours before you discovered one you and Harry were absolutely sure of. Even seeing it written on his birth certificate made your heart swell with pride.
It’s your mother who asks first, “Well, are you two gonna make a formal announcement to the press before us grandparents get to know the name of our grandson?”
“Think we’ve made them wait long enough, Harry.”
He smiles at you from across the hospital room where he sits in a chair, the baby resting peacefully on his chest. You’re propped up in the bed, wrapped in the soft pink robe given to you by him just a few days ago. Anne sits nearby, a proud grin on her face at the sight of her baby with his.
His eyes dart from the baby to you, “You wanna tell them or shall I?”
“You tell them. You’re the one that found it, been bragging about it all day too.”
“Alright then,” He gently lifts the baby, turning him to where the whole room can see him, your son’s face now scrunched up by the light from the window shining on him, “Ladies, meet your grandson, Sterling Edward Styles.”
“Oh, you didn’t,” Anne giggles, reaching over to pat your leg, “You’ll never hear the end of it, love, letting him name the baby after himself.”
“Hey! S’her idea to give him my middle name. I picked the first,” His features switch from temporarily offended back to beaming, “Wanna tell ‘em what it means, darlin’?”
“Sterling means ‘starling’, or as Harry likes to call him..”
“Our little star.”
5 weeks later, your son certainly lives up to his name, charming everyone he meets. Sweet smiles and coos at strangers from his carrier when you’re at the grocery store or falling asleep in Auntie Gemma’s arms when she comes to visit. You were not surprised he already had his father’s charismatic ability to make everyone fall for him so quickly.
With Harry’s schedule as busy as it had been, it hadn’t been easy to adjust to life together as new parents. As much as he had tried to push things back or reschedule to have more time off with you, there was only so much that he was in control of and he was away from you and Sterling more than he liked.
So it’s no surprise when he comes home one evening and the space you share is mostly already decorated for the winter holidays. He smiles warmly to himself when he hears you singing along to the movie playing from the tv, peeks around the corner to see Sterling tucked away in his swing, his eyes open and bright. Your back is turned so you don’t hear Harry approaching, continuing to sing aloud as you work.
“We only have each other, it’s just you and me, what are we gonna dooooooo?” You spin around, expecting to only see Sterling watching you, yelping when you find Harry, giggling at the shock on your face.
He bends to look out the window, “Could be wrong, but I think you have to have snow to build a snowman, yeah?”
“You’re early! I wanted to surprise you,” You weave your way around boxes to greet him, “Left the tree for the 3 of us to do together though.”
“S’nice of you.” His hands remain in his pockets as you move closer, tired eyes looking down at you, lazy smile as you work your arms around his waist. He doesn’t make you wait long, freeing his hands from his pockets to wrap around you.
He buries his face in your neck, “Missed you today.”
“We missed you too, H.”
He pulls back, turning to look down at Sterling, his arm still holding you close to his side, “He’s growing too fast. Can’t believe he’s already 5 weeks.”
“5 weeks and 3 days,” You remind him, “All the mommy blogs say we have an infant now.”
“S’that s’pose to mean? ‘Course he’s an infant.”
“Just means he’s growing out of his tiny baby stage.”
He directs his attention back to the movie playing, laughing as he teases you, “Least y’could’ve done is found a proper Christmas movie t’play while you put up decorations.”
You shrug, “It’s close enough to count. Plus he LOVES it. Think Elsa might be his favorite.”
He can’t resist anymore. As comfortable as his son may be swaying back and forth in his swing, he bends to scoop him up, one hand cradling behind his head and the other behind his back to easily support him. Sterling clearly doesn’t mind, a grin developing when he realizes who it is disturbing him.
“Don’t care what anyone says, bub. Y’ll always be daddy’s baby.”
You never doubted Harry’s capacity to love his son, but you definitely questioned his expertise and knowledge of the basics of caring for a child. He had become somewhat experienced now, tackling late night diaper changes and early morning feedings or anything else in between without complaint when he could.
Though he had done great, you were never too far away that you couldn’t offer assistance when he needed it. So when he gets a rare day off and suggests you let him stay home with the baby while you run errands, you’re hesitant.
“Do ya not trust me?”
“Of course I do. You know I do. I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”
“S’just for a few hours, right? You can write out a list of his schedule if it makes y’feel better.”
Sterling’s stretched across your lap, dozing off while you try to finish the last of your breakfast. Harry stands at the counter, drinking coffee out of a bright pink mug. You look between your almost sleeping son and then back up to Harry, chewing a bite of toast as you contemplate the idea.
He doesn’t take offense to your hesitation, quite the opposite actually. He adores the sight of you, Sterling’s face squished against your chest; one of his hands tucked under his chin, the other wrapped around your side, his little fist holding tight to your t-shirt. It’s the purest form of love in his eyes, to see the bond between mother and son grow and deepen with each day. Makes him reminiscent of his connection with his own mother, fills his heart with so much joy knowing he had chosen someone that would give his son the same sweet upbringing he had.
He makes his way back around the counter to you, a hand resting on the top of Sterling’s head as he bends down to kiss the top of yours. He moves his hand, repeating the act of affection to the top of the baby’s head.
“Really proud of you, y’know that right, baby? Been so amazing watching you take care of yourself and our little boy, never doubted for a second you were meant for this, but it’s been more incredible than I could’ve ever imagined.”
“Proud of you too, H. Know you’ve had a lot of guilt about being gone, but Sterling and I love you so much. He already lights up at the sound of your voice when you FaceTime us from set, and I see the way he grins at you before he falls asleep when you’re here to tuck him in at night.”
His eyes meet yours, sees the moment you make your decision to say yes, deep exhale of warm breath trapped between the two of you, “You have to promise to call if anything happens, if you need anything at all. Don’t care how small it is.” He nods firmly, further setting your mind at ease, “He should sleep most of the time I’m gone, but I’ll prepare another bottle just in case I can’t get back in time.”
You feel silly for feeling so protective, and you were thankful to have Harry as your partner on this journey. His patience and support had been more than generous, covering you and Sterling in more love and adoration than you’d ever known could exist from one person. He kisses you again, on your lips this time, a hand cupping one side of your face before gently lifting Sterling from your arms, shushing and bouncing him a bit when he starts to whimper from the sudden change in his comfortable position.
“S’okay, bubs. Daddy’s got you, g’nna have us a lil’ boys day while mumma’s gone.”
You rush through whatever tasks you had scheduled that seemed so important that morning. Suddenly the groceries you needed and last minute presents you were dropping off at the post office to mail to out of town family didn’t matter, nothing did but getting back home to your boys.
It’s quiet when you shut the door behind you, almost too quiet. As much as you always prayed he would, Sterling never slept through his morning nap, so you’re surprised at the possibility of him still sleeping peacefully. Not that he was old enough to make too much noise yet, but still the silence worries you enough that you don’t even take the time to put away the groceries. You set the bags on the kitchen counter, making your way through the house to the living room first.
All your concern fades at the sight of Harry on the couch, Sterling snuggled in his arms with his back pressed against Harry’s front, his little body covered in a red and white striped onesie with a reindeer on the front, matching pair of green socks on his tiny feet. It’s such a comforting image, you once again question why you had any doubt at the thought of leaving the two of them alone. Harry hasn’t noticed your presence yet, or if he has he hasn’t said anything, and you’re content to keep it that way for a few more minutes to observe the vision set before you.
You notice the movie that’s playing, it’s the same one from a few nights ago that Harry teased you for. You cross your arms, quirking one eyebrow upwards before you repeat Harry’s words from that night out loud, “Boys day, huh? Could’ve at least found a proper Christmas movie to watch while I was gone.”
“I’ve decided you’re right, it does count. I can see why he loves it so much.” He looks up at you from where you lean over back of the couch now, a soft “hi” falling from his lips, tilting his head up to accept the kiss you offer. Sterling coos, and when you look down, he’s looking up at you too.
“Mommy missed you too, baby boy.”
“Come sit with us, lovie, watch the rest of the movie.”
“Gimme a minute to put the groceries away and I will.”
“I’ll pause it and come help.”
“No, stay,” You run your hand through his hair, pushing the curls away from his face, “There’s not that much, I got it.”
You work swiftly to put everything away, taking a minute to change back into your pajamas before you rejoin them, curling yourself against Harry’s side under his free arm. Sterling’s dozing again, most likely falling into a milk coma from the bottle he had just finished, but it doesn’t stop the two of you from continuing to watch the same movie together. You offer to take Sterling or put him in his swing, but he just shakes his head no, clinging tighter to him and you.
“S’my favorite part, this song.”
“What? It’s the saddest one. Elsa and Anna’s parents die in this one.”
He shrugs, careful not to shuffle Sterling and disturb his sleep, “Maybe, but s’catchy, gets stuck in my head more than the others.”
He begins humming along to the intro music, nudging you softly to persuade you to start singing along with the character on the screen. You sit up, dramatically clearing your throat before you do. Harry knows more of the words than he cares to admit, but would rather hear the lyrics sung by you. He giggles at you as you even change your voice to mimic the silly parts.
“It gets a little lonely. All these empty rooms. Just watching the hours tick by…”
Harry provides the tick-tock part, clicking his tongue off-tune to the ones playing in the song. That’s enough to make you laugh out loud, temporarily forgetting the sleeping baby now resting on Harry’s chest. He shushes you playfully, his body shaking through his own laughter thankfully soothing Sterling enough that he doesn’t wake up.
You compose yourself as the song turns slow and mournful, tucking yourself back to Harry’s side again. His hand works around to cup your waist, squeezing lightly to pull you closer, the vibrations of him humming along again a comforting rumble against your body. His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper as he sings the last notes of the song.
“We only have each other. It's just you and me. What are we gonna doooooo?”
Your eyes scan the whole of the room. Your boys nestled together next to you, the tree in the corner of the room the 3 of you had decorated together a few days before, the pile of presents that had already accumulated underneath it. You spot your favorite ornament, a silver star with Sterling’s full name engraved on the front, “Baby’s First Christmas” etched on the back. Sterling’s first present from your family sent from home. Well, what used to be your home for the holidays. A smile spreads across your face at the simple happiness and realization that this is your home now.
Harry, Sterling, and you; sun, moon, and star, spending your first holiday together.
//
Thank you all for reading! As always likes/rbs/and comments are more than welcome. Tell me what you think here!
tag list: @taintedwonder, @cock-a-doodely-doo
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Pride and Fidget Spinners (M)
Author: @kpopfanfictrash , as part of the You’ll Never Shop Alone (YNSA) collaboration with @underthejoon and @suga-kookiemonster
Creative Content Contributor: @underthejoon, for this amazing banner
Rating: 18+
Warnings: oral (female receiving), dirty talk, big dick (it’s seokjin, duh), everyone in this fic is a brat, seokjin talks about fair lending
Genre: Rom-Com / Smut / Enemies to Lovers
Word Count: 18,623
Summary: Seokjin has always prided himself on being the top mall kiosk salesman. His turf, the spot nearest to the fountain, is due to him being the undisputed best in the game. At least, until you arrive and throw his world into chaos.
[ cross-posted to Wattpad here ]
I GET KNOCKED DOWN, BUT I GET UP AGAIN
YOU ARE NEVER GONNA KEEP ME DOWN
I GET KNO –
SLAP. Seokjin’s hand finds the buzzer, tuning off his alarm to burrow further under the covers. Sunlight streams through the open windows, pricking the back of his eyelids but Seokjin refuses to look. He can sleep for five more minutes. Five more minutes will not kill him.
Somewhere else in his apartment, a bedroom door slams. Wincing, Seokjin pulls his comforter higher. His roommate, Min Yoongi, spends most of his time annoyed with the world – but especially in the morning, and especially before having coffee. Loud banging continues, along with the sound of facial products hitting the sink. Groaning out loud, Seokjin pulls a pillow over his face.
Unfortunately, he is now awake and unable to slip back into his dream. It was a good one, too. Something about Iron Man and that hot barista at the mall Taehyung is crushing on. Squinting into his pillow, Seokjin abruptly sits up and tosses this on the floor.
“Fuck!” he yelps, throwing up a hand.
Every day, Seokjin somehow forgets to close his blinds before sleeping. Groping his way into the bathroom, Seokjin ruffles a hand through mussed morning hair. Turning on both taps in his shower, he waits for the water to warm and stares at himself in the mirror.
Clapping both hands to his face, Seokjin drags down the side of his cheeks. Getting older is weird.
Before he can get too hung up on this fact, Seokjin steps into the tub. “I GET KNOCKED DOWN,” he sings, lathering himself with soap. “BUT I GET UP AGAIN!”
Once out of the shower, dried and with a towel wrapped around his waist, Seokjin wanders into his closet. The sight dims his spirits a bit, seeing rows and rows of neatly pressed suits. Seokjin stares them each down in turn, knowing blinking is a weakness.
Reaching past them, he sighs.
The one at the front is navy, pin-striped and stares at him mockingly. Seokjin remembers wearing that one on his first day of work, nearly three years ago. He remembers how proud his parents were of him when he called them on his way home.
Seokjin’s heart sinks at the memory. That first phone call overlaps with another, less pleasant one. The one after his company decided to move their programming center out of his city. Seokjin was not one of the engineers selected to go. He was – rather unceremoniously – let go.
Let go. Seokjin snorts at the memory. Let go is such a nicer way to say fired. Fired has the ring of burnt smoke to it; it stinks of crumbling foundations and all hell breaking loose. If a company wants to yank one’s livelihood out from under them, Seokjin at least feels they should have the decency to call it what it is. Let go.
Shaking his head, Seokjin pushes past the suit to grab a white button-down. It has been nearly six months since that second call. Four months since his severance ran out and Seokjin realized he needed a job. Three months and three weeks since he began working at the Fidget Funk – even thinking the name makes Seokjin wince.
If someone had told him three years ago that he, Kim Seokjin, with his fancy degree and multiple years of experience, would ever be working a glorified mall job, Seokjin would have laughed in their face. He would have asked what they were smoking and if he could share – and yet. Here he is.
Frowning at himself in the mirror, Seokjin zips up his pants. Perhaps the worst part is that Seokjin was not upset when he was ‘let go.’ He was not actually disappointed by the firing, which disappointed his parents even more. When Bob and Karen from HR sat him down in that tiny, white room and handed him a tiny, white packet, Seokjin could not stop grinning.
His colleagues thought he had been kept when he left the room. That is how much Seokjin hated that company. His pure joy at finally leaving was enough to make up for the sucky way it happened.
Honestly, Seokjin was not surprised when he was fired. His entire last year he worked there, Seokjin spent most of his free time designing apps on his phone. No wonder they let him go, come to think of it. He was hardly their employee of the year.
Grabbing both wallet and keys, Seokjin shoves these into his pockets. Stepping into the hall, he glances at Yoongi’s room. “Yoongi!” he calls. No answer. “Hey! Min Yoongi!”
Continued silence, apart from the harsh thud of bass.
Leaning a shoulder against the wall, Seokjin tries again. “MIN YOONGI!”
The door at the end of the hall opens, hitting the wall. “What?” With a yawn, Yoongi drags a hand through his hair. Bleached blond strands fall about his face. “You said 10:00 AM. It’s 10:01.”
“Right.” Seokjin looks at him pointedly. “But I need to have the kiosk set up by 10:30, or else Bertha gets pissed.”
Yoongi walks past him and frowns. “Who’s Bertha? I don’t remember you working with anyone named Bertha.”
“I don’t.” Seokjin shrugs. Today is one of the rare days their work schedules lined up and – amazingly enough – Yoongi agreed to carpool. “Bertha is the name of my fidget spinner display. She’s temperamental.”
Yoongi groans, shutting the door. “Dude, you need to get a hobby.”
“I do have a hobby!”
“Then, get a girlfriend,” says Yoongi, sliding his keys from the lock. “You have way too much free time on your hands.”
“Do not,” Seokjin mutters, shoving both hands in his pockets as they walk to his car. “I’m working on loads of stuff.”
“Oh, really?” Yoongi flips his phone. “Which amazing app is it today? Let me guess. The one which meows every time a cat comes near? Or, the one which ranks all the apps in your phone from most to least used? Or, maybe –”
“Hey!” Cutting him off, Seokjin pulls open his car door. “You left out Alliterate! The handy app which suggests words which start with the same letter as yours – for casual alliteration.”
Yoongi stares over the roof of his car. “Dude, who would buy that?”
“English majors. Dramatic teenagers writing letters in the eighteenth century.”
“Seokjin.” Yoongi slides into the passenger seat. “You don’t give a fuck about any of these ideas, and therein lies your problem.”
“Oh, really?” Seokjin sticks his keys into the ignition. The car is sweltering, baking from having been left in the sun all morning. “Unlike you and your SoundCloud rapping?”
“Exactly unlike me and my SoundCloud rapping.” Grinning, Yoongi buckles his seatbelt and looks over at Seokjin. “Speaking of which – I have a new track to play.”
“No.”
Turning on the engine, Seokjin winces when a red warning light appears. He apparently needs an oil change soon but – with what money?
“Yes.” Yoongi reaches out, already hooking up his phone. “Just these two hooks, okay? Tell me which one you like more.”
Twelve minutes later, Seokjin pulls into his unofficial parking spot at the mall. “Will you look at that?” he says, turning off the engine. “We’re here! Time to go sell those fidgets!”
Rolling his eyes, Yoongi pushes open the door. Shoving his white Auntie Anne’s visor further up on his head, he glances around. “You’ll be sorry,” he says, slamming the door. “You’ll all be sorry!” Yoongi yells at the empty parking lot.
Patting him once on the back, Seokjin walks inside. “You know that I like your music.” Seokjin shivers when they both hit the AC. “More than like it, in fact. You’re too good and you know it – your head is inflated, and I have to take you down a peg.”
Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, because all this pretzel rolling is inflating my ego. I’m basically Kanye, pre-Kim. Or Kanye, post-Kim. Say what you will about the guy, he’s remarkably consistent about how good he thinks he is.”
Snorting, Seokjin quiets when they pass by Kay Jewelers. Both men swerve to avoid eye contact, since they never know when what’s-her-name will be working. Seokjin makes a face. He always forgets her name, but the Kay Jewelers girl is usually after the dick of someone in the mall. Both he and Yoongi have been on the receiving end of that hunt before.
“Alright.” Coming to a stop at his kiosk, Seokjin lowers his gym bag to the ground. “Here is where I bid thee adieu.”
Yoongi continues walking. “Bye.”
“BYE, BEST FRIEND!” Seokjin yells, waving as Yoongi crosses the food court.
Several heads turn, and Seokjin continues waving until his roommate is gone. Grinning, Seokjin returns to his kiosk. Unlocking the metal grating, he pulls this up to reveal a brightly colored display. The morning routine is standard. Inventory, balancing the register, ensuring all displays are functional. Each time he passes the front, Seokjin sees his name on the register.
The kiosk’s top salesman, three months in a row.
It might seem like a silly thing to be proud of, but Seokjin is at a point in his life where everything has gone wrong. Everything he does seems to become a failure and even though he hates this job and hates these fidget spinners (okay, that’s harsh – no one hates fidget spinners), at least he can succeed at this one, small thing.
Selling shit to people they absolutely do not need.
Leaning against the counter, Seokjin crosses an ankle to wait. The mall opens on weekdays at 11:00 AM, prompt. Some places are open earlier – like Java Joe’s, the coffee shop, and maybe the gym – but Seokjin’s kiosk is standard mall hours. Rubbing his eyes, Seokjin glances longingly in the direction of Java Joe’s, but there are only five minutes until the mall opens. He needs to remain where he is.
Pulling his phone from his jacket, he shoots off a quick text.
Seokjin: yo [10:55 AM]
It takes a moment for Namjoon to respond.
Namjoon: what do you want? [10:56 AM]
Seokjin: nothing!!! [10:56 AM]
Namjoon: … [10:56 AM]
Seokjin: ok fine [10:56 AM]
Seokjin: I’ll come clean [10:56 AM]
Seokjin: are you doing the morning shift at T-Mobile [10:56 AM]
Namjoon: …. Yes [10:57 AM]
Namjoon: why? [10:57 AM]
Seokjin: do u think… on ur next break… u could bring me some coffee?? [10:57 AM]
Namjoon: get it yourself [10:58 AM]
Seokjin: pleaseeee Joon?? I never ask you for anything! [10:58 AM]
Seokjin: Chad called in sick, so I’m here all alone : ( [10:58 AM]
Namjoon: sigh. Fine – can you hang on until 1? [10:58 AM]
Seokjin: : ( [10:58 AM]
Namjoon: ur the worst but fine, I’ll try to get away sooner [10:59 AM]
Seokjin: THANKS JOON [10:59 AM]
Seokjin: grande iced Americano, no milk [10:59 AM]
Namjoon: u wouldn’t treat Yoongi like this [10:59 AM]
Seokjin snorts, shoving his phone in his pocket. He absolutely would treat Yoongi like this – problem is, Yoongi rarely responds. He usually spends his work breaks engrossed in his music. If anything, Seokjin is the one who brings coffee to him.
The first two hours pass by at a glacial pace. Seokjin regularly looks at his watch, wondering why the day is moving so slowly. True, it is a weekday but there is usually steady traffic. Stay at home parents and high school kids with nothing better to do than spend their summers at the mall, drinking Orange Julius’ next to the fountain.
It took Seokjin two months to convince his boss to put in for this spot. Next to the fountain is prime mall real estate, since you need to pass by it in order to reach anywhere else. Which is why it is strange that Seokjin has had zero customers.
He is still frowning when Namjoon appears at his workplace, iced coffee in hand. Namjoon wears his T-Mobile manager uniform, complete with a badge which declares his name and title. Kim Namjoon, Assistant Manager.
“Two?” Seokjin fake gasps, holding out a hand. “All for me?”
“Nope.” Namjoon only gives one to him. “One is for me.”
“Rude.” Seokjin sniffs, turning to survey the mall.
“What is? The fact that I brought you coffee?”
“Sure.”
Namjoon laughs. “What’s up with you today? You seem super distracted.”
Squinting at the fountain, Seokjin shakes his head. “I don’t know. Things have been so quiet today. Is there something going on? A deal at Woodbury mall, or something?”
“Hm.” Namjoon’s brow furrows. “Not that I know of, I – oh, wait.” He straightens, glancing across the food court. “When I was walking over here, I did see a new kiosk. Maybe they’re taking some of your customers?”
“A new kiosk?” Seokjin looks up in alarm. “Where?”
“There.” Namjoon points behind a browning, potted plant.
Seokjin peers in the direction Namjoon is pointing. In his line of vision stands a brand-spanking-new kiosk. The sides are all pristine, gleaming and white, with the kind of bright-colored accents designed to draw people in. Neat boxes of toys line the shelves, almost as pretty as Seokjin’s own display.
Groaning, Seokjin sinks to his kiosk. “Drones?” He glances at Namjoon. “How are fidget spinners supposed to compete with fucking drones?”
“Dunno.” Namjoon takes a sip of his coffee. “I first saw them this morning, but they’re getting pretty good business. Nearly tripped over their salesgirl on my way here. She’s cute,” he adds, glancing at Seokjin.
Seokjin glowers. “Cuter than me?”
“Maybe.” Namjoon shrugs.
“Impossible.” Seokjin glares in the direction of the kiosk. On one side, he can barely make out the shape of a worker and based on what he sees, Seokjin begrudgingly thinks Namjoon might be right. You could be cute.
Namjoon drains the rest of his cup. “Well. Gotta go,” he says cheerfully, clapping Seokjin on the back. “Breaks don’t last forever. Hope the rest of your day picks up.”
“Thanks,” Seokjin mutters. “Hope so, too.”
Namjoon leaves, returning the same way he came towards the T-Mobile store. Seokjin continues to glance at the competing kiosk, staring with envy at its remote-controlled helicopters.
Up until now, the competitive landscape at the mall has been easy. There is a guy on the second floor selling Proactive but other than that, Seokjin has never had real competition. Until now, it would seem.
Rather than be turned off by this fact, Seokjin tilts his head. The only reason he lasted as long as he did at his prior company is because of how competitive he is. Even if Seokjin does not care about the product, he still works tirelessly to be called number one. He should stop by and check out the competition – just to be certain there is no real risk.
Seokjin’s phone buzzes, revealing a text from his boss. Lisa will be here at 5:00 PM, meaning Seokjin only must hold out a few hours before he can see the new kiosk.
Only a few more hours until he knows what he is up against.
Lisa’s arrival at five means Seokjin is afforded a half-hour break. He uses this to grab food, bothering Yoongi at Auntie Anne’s before moving on. Dinnertime at the mall is typically crowded and Yoongi tends to throw mustard if Seokjin overstays his welcome.
Not wanting to ruin his button-down, Seokjin wanders in the direction of your kiosk. He eyes this as he approaches, finding the reality of the situation to be worse than he feared. The drones you stock are cool and what is more – they are all beautifully displayed. The stand might even rival Bertha.
Crossing both arms over his chest, Seokjin examines the kiosk. The products are neat, all of them aligned in carefully placed rows. The fingers on his right hand twitch, really wanting to touch the remote- controlled helicopters, but before he can move –
“Can I help you?” you ask, bright and cheerful. Seokjin flinches, gaze darting to you.
Fuck – seeing you up close, Seokjin’s jaw nearly hits the ground. You are gorgeous. There is no other word for it. The smile you give is infections; it makes him want to smile back. More than that – Seokjin finds himself wanting to be the reason for that smile, but no! Straightening his spine, Seokjin reminds himself that you are the competition.
Looking at you, his scowl deepens.
Your own smile falters. “Did you want me to take that one out?” you ask, pointing at the drone. “Show you how it works?”
Seokjin shrugs, as though he could not care less. “I’m not here to buy, actually.”
Now, it is your turn to look confused. “I – uh, okay.” You squint. “Then, why are you here?”
Seokjin realizes how creepy he sounds. In your eyes, he has wandered over, stared at your merchandise for a prolonged period of time and then announced he was not here to buy. A grade-A creep rivaled only by that one flasher who lurks in female footwear.
“Uh…” Backtracking, Seokjin jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I work at that kiosk, actually. I’m Seokjin.”
Unimpressed, you glance in this direction. “Y/N. And – uh, okay?”
“I stopped by to say hello. And to see what you’re selling.”
As he speaks, you read the name of his kiosk. Your upper lip twitches as slowly, you return to looking at him. Seokjin is unnerved by your smile. For some reason, he has the sinking suspicion he is the butt of your joke.
“Oh,” you say, tone entirely different. “That kiosk. Brandi mentioned you.”
“Brandi?”
“My boss.” You wave towards the middle-aged woman on the other side of the kiosk. Seokjin thinks he has seen her around before. “She said you’ve been selling pretty well the past couple of months. Great job.”
Seokjin tries not to seem smug – there is an undercurrent to your tone which screams subterfuge. “I mean, yeah,” he says carefully. “Things are going pretty well for us.”
“Strange, then.”
“What is?”
“Strange that we’re doing so much better than you.”
Someone could scrape Seokjin’s jaw off the dirty, child-scuffed floor. You smirk at him, tapping two fingers against the pretty, floral sleeve of your tunic. If Seokjin did not know better, he would think you were flirting with him.
Except you just fucking insulted him.
“I…” Shaking his head, Seokjin’s voice is strangled. “Mall traffic has been slow this morning. No big deal. I guess once you’ve been around longer, you’ll know that.”
“Hm.” You purse your lips. “I don’t know – things have been pretty crazy for us today. We already ran out of a product. Wild, right?”
Seokjin’s mouth dries, his ears starting to buzz – all evidence of his pure hatred of you. Obviously. It could not be anything else.
“You ran… out of something? Already?”
Seokjin’s voice squeaks on the last word, making him cringe.
“Not bad, huh? Although, I guess once we’ve ‘been around longer,’” you mock with a grin, “we’ll get more lulls. Must be nice.”
In the face of his clear disbelief, you have the nerve to wink.
Seokjin begins to see red. “Yeah,” he croaks, recovering himself. “Beginner’s luck is nice, too.”
Your smile disappears. “How long is your break? I don’t think my kiosk could afford to have me gone for so long.”
Not looking away, Seokjin shoves the rest of his pretzel in his mouth. Chewing exaggeratedly, he watches you wince. “Sorry,” he mumbles around cinnamon-sugar bread. “Thanks for the reminder. I do need to be getting back. Can’t have my kiosk without its top salesman.”
Nose wrinkled; you continue to stare. “If that’s your idea of finesse, I think they can manage without you.”
“Please.” Seokjin gives you a pointed look. “I’m literally dripping with finesse.”
Your lips twitch, suppressing the gesture. Seokjin is impressed by your stoicism, since he knows he is a good-looking guy. That much is a non-debatable fact. Even if it were not, he can see by the way your gaze lingers, that you like what you see. And still – when your gaze returns to his face, your expression is artfully composed.
Fuck, Seokjin realizes. You really are going to be competition.
“Is that all?” Blithely, you turn. “Did you just stop by to see how much better we’re doing?”
Seokjin scowls at your arguably perfect behind. “I came to see how much product you have left, yeah.”
Glancing over your shoulder, you grin. “Why? Worried we’ll sell out before you can buy?”
“No.” Undercutting his conviction, Seokjin glances again at the helicopter. “I’ve got my hands full, thanks.”
“Ri-ght.” You draw out the word. “Then, you should probably get back to the, uh – Fidget Funk.”
Seokjin’s ears turn red with embarrassment. “I will,” he blurts, spinning around on his heel. “You have fun at the Drone Dome – fuck,” he mutters, coming to a stop. “That’s actually such a cool name.”
Without waiting for a response, he stalks away. All the way across the food court, your laughter rings out behind him. Upon reaching his kiosk, Seokjin glances over his shoulder. You are not paying attention to him, already engaged with another customer and Seokjin’s stomach slowly sinks.
He might be in trouble – and in more ways than one.
Seokjin arrives the next day ready for battle.
Before, he was unprepared – caught off guard by your wily ways, but no longer! He is Kim Seokjin, crusader of goals and defender of the kiosk. The fact that Seokjin does not care about fidget spinners does not matter. They are his unfortunate chosen weapon and so, he will die upon this metaphorical sword.
Leaning against his kiosk, Seokjin spins a toy in one hand. Smiling and nodding at everyone who passes, he tries not to seem creepy or make eye contact for too long. This is the number one rule of kiosk sales – be deliberate, but approachable.
Most kiosk salespeople fail here, never ascending past the first stage of selling. They leer at shoppers, approaching women with earbuds in, or spraying perfume without asking. Not Seokjin. Seokjin is the very image of class, one ankle crossed over the other.
Seated at the food court is a large group of collegiate girls. At least, Seokjin assumes this based off one girl’s University sweatshirt. They sit clustered around Starbucks drinks (a slap in the face to Java Joe’s!), giggling every so often and glancing at Seokjin. Despite knowing they see him, Seokjin pretends not to care. Every so often, he pushes a hand through his hair and angles himself in the light.
Eventually, he knows one will come over and when they do, Seokjin will whip out the charm. A shadow steps into his path, blocking the sunlight.
Seokjin frowns. “Get out of the way,” he says, bored. “I almost have a sale.”
Arms crossed; you glance over a shoulder. The group of girls glare at you, clearly perturbed at having their view interrupted.
Snorting, you return to Seokjin. “Oh, please. So, what – you’re a pedophile, in addition to creep?”
Jerking upright, Seokjin scowls. “I am not a pedophile. I’m just trying to make a sale.”
“Of what kind?” you ask pleasantly.
“Fidget spinners.”
“Hm. Could’ve fooled me.”
Shrugging, you take a long sip of your coffee. Seokjin tries not to linger on the way your lips wrap around the straw.
I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says stiffly. “Now, move. You’re blocking my light.”
“Whatever,” you yawn, leaving. As you enter the food court, you give Seokjin an excellent view of your backside walking away. “We’ll still beat your sales target today, anyways!” you call back.
Glaring at your retreating head, Seokjin holds out for as long as he can before dropping his gaze to your ass. Waggling fingers over your shoulder, you disappear behind the potted plant. The college girls resume looking at him but now, Seokjin finds he does not care.
Really, he should be thanking you. As soon as you are gone, three of the girls wander up to his kiosk. Seokjin sells five fidget spinners in one hour, thanks to the jealousy your presence provoked. Rather than be pleased by this fact though, Seokjin becomes even more agitated. He does not like feeling in your debt.
The next time your shifts overlap, determined to get even, Seokjin switches tactics. He parks on the opposite end of the mall, necessitating he should walk by your kiosk. Yoongi complains about this, but Seokjin merely ignores him.
Slowing as he passes your kiosk, Seokjin waits for you to look up.
Both elbows leaned to the counter, you scroll casually through your phone. When your gaze flicks up, taking him in – you blink.
“Oh, come on,” you groan.
Waving to Yoongi, Seokjin veers in your direction. “Oh, hey!” He stops at your display, nonchalantly stretching his arms overhead. “Having a good morning?”
Gaze darting to his pants and back up, you almost seem flustered. “I – how tight are those jeans?”
Seokjin’s grin widens. “What, these old things?”
Turning around, Seokjin checks out his own ass, as though surprised by its appearance. He is rather proud of his legs, actually. There is a reason Seokjin spends so much time in the gym with Jungkook. His newly bought skinny jeans show off his best assets. Not to mention how satisfying it is to see you rendered speechless.
Your gaze returns to his, smoldering. “There’s a tag still in the pocket, genius.”
“Oh.” Grandly, Seokjin plucks this off – fuck, that just cost him an entire week of spending allowance. “Well, there you go. Wouldn’t want to distract from the view.”
Jaw clenched, you seem as though you want to say more, but hold yourself back. “Great.”
Seokjin smirks. “Isn’t it?”
Whirling around, you pretend to be busy but Seokjin can tell your register has already been counted.
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your kiosk?” You glower, glancing over your shoulder. “I’d hate to waste any more of your time standing here.”
Seokjin’s grin broadens. “You’re right,” he agrees. “That’d be a shame. See you around, Y/N!”
Happily, he turns and walks back the food court. With each step his grin widens, imagining you watching him leave. The rest of his day is spent in lazy self-satisfaction.
As it turns out, Seokjin should have been warier. Your silence was not acceptance of defeat, but a determined self-call to arms. The very next day, Seokjin walks past your kiosk and nearly spills his drink down his shirt.
You stand off to the side, bent to display a generous amount of cleavage. Seokjin’s jaw drops, unable to look away. He realizes how inappropriate he is being when you look up and see him.
“Seokjin!” Straightening, you wave.
The action makes your breasts bounce, causing Seokjin’s pants to feel tighter.
Yoongi snorts at his side. “Good luck, man,” he says, patting Seokjin once on the back before walking away.
Seokjin is left alone, facing the wiles of his enemy.
“Hey,” you say, raising both brows. “Seokjin? Are you okay?”
Forcing himself to move, Seokjin walks robotically forward. He does not allow himself to look below your collarbone – fuck, you must be wearing a push-up bra. There is no other way a single day could cause such a dramatic transformation.
Unable to help himself, Seokjin sneaks another peek.
When he looks up, you are smirking at him. “See something you like?”
The tips of Seokjin’s ears turn crimson. “I – what?”
“The merchandise,” you say sweetly, waving a hand. “We just got in a few new toys over the weekend.”
Seokjin has no response to this, having momentarily forgotten what words are.
Your lips twitch. “Is something wrong, Seokjin?”
Seeing the teasing look in your eyes, Seokjin fumes. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, jaw snapping shut. “I’ll just be on my way, then. Lots of… fidgets to spin.”
Turning around, he dramatically walks off.
He cannot help but feel oddly unsettled, throat burning in a way which does not make sense. Anger, he tells himself. The emotion is merely annoyance. It is completely natural he would hate his competitor. Natural, for him to think about what their lips would look like shut up by his.
It takes two weeks for Seokjin to enact the next phase of his plan. Which is – dramatic entertainment. Basically, phase two involves Seokjin researching fidget spinner hand tricks for hours at a time on YouTube. It reaches to the point where Seokjin is in near hibernation. Jungkook sends him texts every so often, asking when he will return to the gym, but Seokjin is a man on a mission and cannot be stopped.
He starts off slowly, learning the simple fidget spinner hand transfer. Next is the hand twist, rated Difficulty Level Two by the most known YouTube star. From there, learning the around the back is easy. This maneuver is more complex – it involves Seokjin physically throwing the fidget spinner over his shoulder to catch in the other hand.
Once Seokjin can control two fidget spinners at once, he deems himself ready.
Phase two goes into action on a busy Saturday afternoon. Seokjin hijacks the Fidget Funk’s speakers, hooking up his iPhone to the horror of his co-worker, Lisa.
“Oh, no,” she groans. “Please tell me you aren’t doing what I think you’re doing.”
“Are you thinking I’m doing a fidget spinner trick show?” Seokjin adjusts the sweatband on his forehead. “Alright, then. I won’t tell you.”
“God, how embarrassing.” Lisa slumps low in her chair. “Well, at least do it before Chad gets here.”
“Noted. What song should I use?” Seokjin flips through his playlist. “Hero by Enrique Iglesias? Whatcha Say by Jason Derulo? The Cha Cha Slide?”
Lisa stares in disbelief. “What vibe are you going for, exactly?”
“None of those?” Seokjin frowns. “What about All Star by Smash Mouth?”
“How about Cotton Eyed Joe?” Lisa offers. “That seems more fitting with all of… this.”
Ignoring her sarcasm, Seokjin selects a song to press play. The first notes of Everybody by Backstreet Boys plays through the speakers. Lisa groans and slumps even lower.
At first, no one notices Seokjin at all. People sidestep him, focused solely on getting to the food court but then, Seokjin executes a perfect shoulder throw. A kid stops to watch. His mom stops too, trying to drag her kid forward but failing in her mission.
“Hey!” Seokjin beams, switching the spinner from one hand to the other. “Want to see more?”
The boy nods and before long, Seokjin has managed to gather a small crowd. Over the ooh’s and ahs of children, Seokjin converses with their moms.
“Fidget spinners are proven to help concentration in both kids and adults,” Seokjin says with a hand twist. “One of my friends was telling me a story the other day. He and this AVP at his office are both tactile people and remember better while doing something with their hands. So, they end up having this entire meeting while playing with fidget spinners from her office.”
The moms all laugh, moving forward to let their kids pick out a toy. By the time the day ends, Seokjin has beaten all previous sales records. He has also managed to capture the attention of most people in the mall – including you.
And Namjoon, who stops by before closing.
“Dude,” Namjoon laughs, leaning one arm to his kiosk. “Why are you being so extra lately? It’s just a temp job. Who cares?”
“I care, Namjoon.” Seokjin bristles. “Is it so wrong to want to do well at my work? To want to improve the sales of my peers. Frankly, Namjoon, I’m insulted you would –”
“Hey, Kim!” you yell, passing by. “Heard you’re trying to break into show business!”
Seokjin abruptly stops talking. “Trying?” he calls back. “I’m already there. Were you able to catch a performance?”
Rolling your eyes, you walk backwards. “Of course, I did! The whole fucking mall saw you, Seokjin. Your music was so loud, people physically moved in the food court.”
Seokjin’s grin widens. “What’d you think?”
“I think you should stick to sales.” Shaking your head, you try not to smile. “Anyways, just wait until you see what we’re doing this weekend. It’ll make your lame tricks look like nothing!”
“Can’t wait!” Seokjin cups both hands over his mouth. “I love to watch lofty dreams come crashing down!”
Shaking your head, you turn around and disappear into the mall. Once you are gone, Seokjin returns to Namjoon.
“What?” he blinks, seeing his friend’s smug expression.
Namjoon’s smile widens. “Oh, nothing.”
“What?”
Namjoon merely laughs, grabbing his smoothie and turning away. “Good luck with that, man!”
Seokjin stares after, not understanding but deciding it is not worth his while. Namjoon always thinks he knows so much – granted, he usually does, but that is not the point. The point is Seokjin does not and so, he should not worry about it now.
The next day is busy, which means Seokjin barely has time to consider the performance you mentioned. He is again covering for Lisa, who failed to show up. Chad and Seokjin are the only ones covering the kiosk, which Seokjin despises because Chad is his least favorite co-worker. Lisa may be flaky, but at least her presence is tolerable. Chad is always going off on tangents about who wronged him on Twitter that day, and why.
Chad is also terrible at customer service – no surprise – which means Seokjin must handle all returns and exchanges. A tedious task in itself, let alone with Chad’s monotonous voice in his ears. In fact, the morning is so busy, Seokjin barely remembers to eat, let alone visit you.
It is the sound of cheers over the food court which make him look up.
Midway through a transaction, Seokjin pauses to glance at your kiosk. You and your Manager – Brandi – stand before it, navigating two competing drones in the air. It seems several people are betting on which drone will win.
Rolling his eyes, Seokjin returns to his customer. Smiling blandly, he hands the woman her money and ignores the wild cheers growing steadily behind him. It makes Seokjin’s teeth grind, realizing you might be drawing a bigger crowd than he did.
Unable to stop himself, he peers over his shoulder. Seokjin’s eyes widen. Above the food court, a helicopter loops circles around a remote-controlled plane. They no longer seem to be racing, dive- bombing the crowd and swooping up at the last second. Kids squeal in excitement, running around underneath.
Seokjin scowls, slamming shut the register. His mind revolts at the knowledge that your show is better than his – also, there is the maddening fact that Seokjin wants a drone for himself. Huffing under his breath, Seokjin turns away.
Before he can tell Chad he is going on break, a scream pierces the crowd.
“MOVE!” Seokjin hears your voice above the rest. “KIDS, MOVE!”
Seokjin whirls around, spotting the helicopter spinning out of control. Kids duck from its path, their hands held overhead as the helicopter sputters, dips and sputters again. Steam curls from its top, clearly not responding to the remote you hold in one hand.
Worse than that, the drone is headed in their direction.
“Chad, move!” Seokjin yells, diving out of the way.
Chad looks up just in time to see the helicopter crash into their kiosk.
Fidget spinners fly every which way. From his spot on the floor, several hit Seokjin in the back of his legs – he winces, curling into himself. Chad’s sputtering continues above as the slow whir of helicopter blades begins to wind down.
Seokjin hesitantly looks up. The kiosk above him is chaos. Nothing seems to be broken, but his carefully placed display – Bertha! – is entirely out of whack. Brightly colored boxes lie on the floor, shelving hanging precariously off the sides of the kiosk.
You dash into view, skidding to a stop inches away from his nose. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, a useless remote held in one hand. “I don’t know what happened, I swear.”
Your gaze darts to Seokjin’s, still lying prostrate on the floor.
He slowly pushes himself to stand, staring in shock at the disastrous kiosk. Seokjin expects to feel angry. He should feel pissed, since all his hard work was erased and now, he will have to spend several hours cleaning it up, but – nothing.
Well, that is not entirely true.
Seokjin wishes he could wipe that look of distress from your face. “It’s alright,” he says, still looking at you.
Surprise flickers over your expression.
Chad steps out from behind the kiosk. “Oh… my… god,” he says, eyes wide.
“I’m really sorry,” you repeat, face twisted in agony.
Before you can continue, your manager appears. “Go back to the kiosk, Y/N,” she says, sighing. “There are a bunch of customers to take care of. I’ll handle this.”
It appears you wish to say more, but a stern look from Brandi is silencing. Giving Seokjin an apologetic look, you turn on your heel to walk across the food court.
Brandi waits until you are out of earshot before looking at Seokjin. “I’m sorry about the disruption,” she offers.
Seokjin tears his gaze away. “It’s okay.”
“What?!” Chad stomps out to point a finger at Brandi. “It is not okay! You and your dumb drones wrecked our display!”
Brandi looks at his finger, unimpressed. She glances at Seokjin. “You can throw that helicopter away. If anything of yours has been damaged, let me know. We’ll pay for it – just send me an itemized receipt by the end of the day, okay?”
Seokjin nods, a bit thrown by the interaction. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.”
Brandi looks at him thankfully, turning around to return to her kiosk. Once she is gone, Chad whirls on Seokjin.
“Man, what the fuck?”
Bending, Seokjin picks up a lone fidget spinner. “What do you mean, what the fuck?”
“They should’ve…” Chad trails off, shaking his head. “Done more. I don’t know. They should’ve cleaned up the whole area, or something!”
Seokjin snorts, replacing the toy on the counter. “Relax,” he says. “It’s not like anything is seriously damaged. We just need to re-stock the display and besides, they don’t know how to do that. It’ll be faster if we do it.”
“Even so,” Chad mutters. He begins cleaning up, casting an angry glance in the direction of the Drone Dome. “They should still fucking pay.”
“They will, if anything’s broken,” Seokjin says simply.
He then tunes Chad out, putting himself to work. Re-stocking Bertha takes a while but, in the end, Seokjin is happier with its order. He keeps thinking you will stop by after your shift, but you do not. Perhaps you are too embarrassed to do so, or maybe Brandi warned you not to go near them again.
Whatever the reason, Seokjin cannot leave before closing. When he finally passes kiosk on his way to the gym, everything is closed, and you are nowhere in sight.
Seokjin lingers a moment before he moves on.
SLAM.
Seokjin drops his barbells, the sound echoing through the gym in a satisfying way. Several women on the elliptical look up in annoyance.
“Sorry!” Seokjin calls, wiping sweat from his neck.
Although the women continue to glare, they return to their workout. Jungkook snickers into the sleeve of his t-shirt, biceps bulging beneath the tight fit of his clothes. Pulling a power bar from his pocket, Jungkook waves at the weights Seokjin discarded.
“Give me ten more.”
Seokjin glares. “Go choke.”
“Can’t.” Unwrapping his snack, Jungkook takes a large bite. “Told my current hook-up that was just for her.”
“Gross.” Seokjin groans, bending to grab the weights. “I didn’t need to know that.”
Jungkook grins, displaying chocolate and teeth. “Ten more,” he repeats.
Despite several muttered curse words under his breath, Seokjin obeys. Dropping the weights again on the floor – in direct defiance of the no weight-dropping sign – Seokjin grabs his knees with both hands.
“Alright,” he huffs, squinting at Jungkook. “I don’t care anymore if I’m in shape. I care more about snacks. Snacks and alcohol.”
“I’m choosing to ignore that.” Jungkook takes another bite. “I’m using one of my free guest passes on you, so you better be worth it.”
Rolling his eyes, Seokjin takes a long swig from his water bottle. Despite this, he still follows Jungkook as they walk to the treadmills. Jungkook is right, he is doing Seokjin a favor by letting him work out for free. Truth be told, Seokjin hated Jungkook when he first began at the mall. Jungkook was young, good- looking and got tons of attention – male and female, alike.
He was the competition.
Over time though, this distrust dissolved and somehow, Jungkook is now one of Seokjin’s closest friends. When he is not annoying the hell out of him, that is.
Throwing his wrapper in the trash, Jungkook wipes both palms on his pants. “So.” Stepping onto a treadmill, he turns the speed to three. “How’s it going with drone girl?”
Seokjin follows suit. “She knocked over my display today.”
“Like, on purpose?”
“Nah.” Seokjin shakes his head. “On accident. She was doing a demo and one of the helicopter drones broke. Crashed into my kiosk.”
“Oh.” Jungkook’s brow furrows. “Still – annoying. Increase your speed.”
Seokjin obeys. “Eh,” he huffs, beginning to jog. “I don’t think it was on purpose. But still, she’s just so frustrating.”
“What’s frustrating? Increase your speed again to four.”
“I don’t know,” Seokjin says, following suit. “She’s frustrating. She has this way of looking at me, you know?”
“Looking at you in like, a creepy way?”
“No…” Seokjin’s feet pound the treadmill. “She’s a tease.”
“Sounds hot.”
“She keeps messing with me.”
“You keep messing with her.”
“She made fun of my fidget spinners!”
Jungkook bursts into laughter. To add insult to injury, he barely seems winded at all by their run and Seokjin is panting.
“Dude. Fidget spinners suck. I’ve heard you say that on multiple occasions.”
“Sure, but she doesn’t have to say that!”
“Whatever, bro.” Jungkook grins. “Sounds to me like you want to fuck her.”
Seokjin is so startled, he nearly trips on the treadmill. “I do not.”
“No judgement here! Do it once, get it out of your system.”
“I don’t want to fuck her, Jungkook.” Seokjin glares in his direction. “She hates me. And I hate her!”
“O-h,” Jungkook says knowingly. “So, you’re in love with her. I get it. Increase your speed to five.”
Seokjin obeys, face turning beet-red. “Jungkook,” he growls. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Make me.”
Reaching out, Seokjin turns the speed on Jungkook’s treadmill to eight.
“Hey!” Jungkook yelps, breaking into a sprint. He manages to keep up, pushing a hand through his hair. When Seokjin rolls his eyes, Jungkook grins. “Nailed it.”
Seokjin returns to his machine. “Besides, you’re one to talk,” he mutters. “Aren’t you in love with the juice girl, or something?”
On reflex, Jungkook glances over his shoulder. Seokjin can tell by his lovesick expression he is right. Juice girl only started working recently at the gym and from what Seokjin can tell, Jungkook is entirely smitten. He has never been subtle about the women he likes, but with juice girl, Jungkook seems to have met his match.
She is completely immune to his charms. Seokjin cannot help but feel sympathy for the guy. Or – at least, he does until Jungkook returns to him with a grin.
“So.” He wriggles his eyebrows. “How hot is kiosk girl, anyways?”
“No.” Seokjin reaches out to increase Jungkook’s incline. “You’re not going to fuck my mortal enemy.”
“Well, if you’re not going to.”
“Think about juice girl!” Seokjin yells – entirely unintentional, but he is running out of breath.
Jungkook retaliates by upping his speed. By the end of their sprint, Seokjin feels like collapsing. He steps off his treadmill with wobbly legs, feeling as though he has just run a marathon. Not that Seokjin would ever run a marathon, of course, but he can imagine. Jungkook follows suit, hopping down from his machine.
“Good workout.” Jungkook wipes his forehead with a towel. “Wanna come over and hang? Hoseok from Foot Locker is gonna come, too.”
Seokjin nods, taking a sip from his water bottle. “Yeah, okay.” He glances again at the door, but your kiosk is too far to see. “Sounds good to me.”
As they walk towards the locker rooms, Jungkook chatters aimlessly but Seokjin cannot stop thinking about you. While he showers and changes, Jungkook’s words replay in his mind. The idea of Seokjin having a crush on you is insane. The two of you have barely exchanged one nice word since you met.
Still. Snapping a towel free from his neck, Seokjin continues to wonder. He does think about you an awful lot. Usually, he is thinking of new ways to annoy you, but that is more than he thinks about anyone else. Chad, for instance – or Lisa.
Frowning, Seokjin slams shut his locker. He cannot ignore the initial attraction he had for you. If you had not been his competition, Seokjin would have probably asked you out.
The moment he thinks this, he freezes. Maybe this is why you annoy him so much – Seokjin is attracted to you and can do nothing about it.
Under any other set of circumstances, this fact would be enlightening but things being what they are though, nothing has changed. You still hate him. Seokjin still finds you his competition.
Staring at his locker, Seokjin’s lips twist.
“Seokjin!” Jungkook yells from the door. “You coming, or what?”
Jerking himself free from his thoughts, Seokjin picks up his bag. “Coming!” he yells, pushing you from his mind.
Seokjin has the next two days off work. He uses this mainly to work on his apps, pouring time and energy into working the kinks from his latest round of updates. In between each stroke of his keyboard, he is thinking of you.
Seokjin hates Jungkook a little, for pointing out the obvious fact that he likes you. Before that, Seokjin took his fixation with you at face value. He did not like you; he was just annoyed by you. Now, though.
He cannot help but wonder.
Exhaling loudly, Seokjin slumps against his kiosk. His manager is off once again – honestly, that dude never works – and Seokjin is stuck working with Chad. Absently, Seokjin twirls a spinner around his finger.
“You okay, man?” Chad breaks the silence.
Shaking his head, Seokjin stares into space. “Oh, yeah. Just a bit preoccupied, that’s all.”
“With what?”
Seokjin shrugs, not feeling like talking.
Chad is one of the few people capable of getting under his skin without saying a word. It is something about the way Chad stands – chest puffed, gaze lazy, as though the world owes him something. He always wears a backwards cap, even inside and Seokjin suspects a receding hairline to be the cause. Whatever the reason, Chad always has a chip on his shoulder.
He seems to be compensating for something. Although what he could be compensating for, as a white male in today’s economy, Seokjin has no idea.
“Hey.” Voice lowering, Chad nods towards the food court. “I know something which might cheer you up.”
Seokjin straightens when he realizes Chad is staring at you. Anything which cheers Chad up could only have the opposite effect upon Seokjin.
“What?” Seokjin asks, suspicious.
Chad leans in. “You know the bitch who ruined our display a few days ago?”
Seokjin’s jaw tightens, hearing you called a bitch. “What about it?”
“Ha.” Chad laughs, not hearing the clear warning in Seokjin’s tone. “Don’t worry about paying her back. I got this.”
Alarm bells go off in Seokjin’s mind. “What do you mean by, ‘I got this?’”
“Let’s just say it’s taken care of.”
“No.” Seokjin drops his phone, standing up from his chair. “Let’s say more. What the fuck did you do, Chad?”
Chad blinks at him in surprise. “Whoa – chill, dude. What’re you pissed about?”
Seokjin pauses, uncertain. It is not as though he knows you, not really. But still – Seokjin remembers how sincere you looked that day, apologizing for the display. You did not mean to injure their kiosk; he knows that much.
“Chad…” Seokjin mutters in warning.
He does not get further before screams erupt from the food court. Seokjin’s head whips sideways, spotting the source of the commotion. Once again, a drone is loose in the mall. Like two days prior, a rogue helicopter flies over the food court. It seems out of control, dive-bombing people at random and sending them running.
Seokjin’s mouth drop. Before he can move, the drone careens towards the ground. A girl stands alone next to the frozen yogurt place, holding her cone and staring at it in terror. Her eyes widen, fixed on the drone and Seokjin moves on instinct, darting into the crowd.
Before he can arrive, the girl’s mom appears to yank her to safety. Her cone spills in the process, mint chocolate chip on the ground, but at least the helicopter misses, swooping and diving again. Seokjin’s eyes narrow, realizing the drone moves much too fast to be out of control.
Glancing around, Seokjin realizes Chad is on his phone. When he sees Seokjin looking, Chad waves at him with a grin.
Seokjin’s stomach heaves. Before he can move, you are barreling towards him.
“YOU!” you yell, pointing a finger. Several people between you look up in surprise.
Seokjin blinks, also pointing at himself. “Me?”
“You!” you gasp, skidding to a stop. “What the hell did you do to my drone?”
You are holding several remotes in your fist, Seokjin realizes. Apparently, none of them are working. The helicopter swoops dangerously close to you both and Seokjin ducks out of the way.
“What did I do?” he blurts, staring upwards. “You think I’m the one behind this?”
“No, shit!” you yell, dodging the drone.
“Y/N, I –” The chopper dive-bombs again and Seokjin groans. This is not going to make you believe him, but he needs to do something before someone gets hurt. “Fuck it!” he yells and takes off.
Sprinting away, Seokjin hears you yelling behind him. Ignoring you, Seokjin leaps onto a table. He is not sure how Chad is controlling the helicopter – possibly from his phone, but Seokjin would not put it past him to have someone stationed elsewhere in the mall. Based on the depth of his vengeance on Twitter, Seokjin imagines Chad to be petty.
All Seokjin knows is he needs to stop the drone and a sure-fire way of doing that is getting the drone from the air.
Above, the drone does a loop before dive-bombing a cluster of girls exiting the lingerie store. The girls squeal, scatting in every direction as the helicopter pulls from its spiral. Leaping into the air, Seokjin’s fingers barely brush a wing before falling back to the ground.
“SEOKJIN, GET BACK HERE!”
Ignoring you, Seokjin continues pursuing the drone. “Sorry!” he yells, dodging a woman. “Y/N, this isn’t what it looks like!”
Your footsteps pound behind him, catching up. “It looks like you hijacked one of your drones!”
“See!” Seokjin glances over his shoulder. “I told you it wasn’t what it looks like!”
“Huh?”
“Aha!” Seokjin leaps into the air. Fuck – he barely misses. Crashing again to the ground, Seokjin takes off running. He uses his next jump to leap onto a table.
A guy looks up from his hot dog, mustard dribbled onto his chin. “What the f –”
Seokjin leaps into the air, fingers grazing the wing of the helicopter. Eyes narrowed, Seokjin swears as his heels hit the ground. A mother nearby covers the ears of her child.
“Sorry!” Seokjin yells in response.
A hand grabs his arm. “Kim Seokjin!” you blurt, whirling him sideways to face you.
Seokjin glances over your shoulder in distress. “It’s getting away!” he blurts, shaking free to sprint towards the fro-yo.
Your mouth drops, but you follow. “What are you doing?”
Not having the breath to answer, Seokjin runs faster. For the first time in his life, he is grateful Jungkook pushes him so hard at the gym. Jumping again in the air, Seokjin thinks he has done it – until you jump suddenly in front of him, swatting his hand.
“Hey!” Seokjin yelps, stumbling as he hands. “What the fuck, Y/N?”
“Mine!” you yell, darting forward.
“Wait – Y/N!”
Grumbling, he chases after you. The two of you must look ridiculous, racing around the food court. As you pass Auntie Anne’s pretzels, Seokjin swears he can hear Yoongi cracking up at the register.
One second, you are ahead of him and the next, Seokjin is. He runs faster, pumping his arms as he spots the drone by the fountain. Cutting you off, Seokjin puts on a sudden burst of speed and leaps into the air. His fingers wrap around metal, yanking the helicopter from the sky. As he descends, Seokjin cannot help but laugh – until your hand finds his elbow, pulling him sideways.
Seokjin yelps, stumbling when his feet hit the concrete.
There is a dangerous, teetering moment where you both hover at the edge of the fountain – and then he falls, taking you with. Seokjin yelps, soaked to the skin when a water jet hits his face. A second splash follows as your butt hits the water.
If feels like a scene from a movie; that moment when a song cuts at a party. One second, everything is happening and the next – nothing.
Slowly, Seokjin pushes himself to sit in the water. The trickling sound of the fountain fills his ears, one of his hands resting on something which is definitely not a penny.
“Gross,” Seokjin groans, seeing the wad of pink gum.
His pants are soaked, so is his shirt and Seokjin does not even want to imagine the state of his hair. Removing his hand from the water gum, Seokjin looks up.
You glare back at him, making Seokjin recoil.
At least the drone is down.
Seokjin can see its red wings submerged in the water, bobbing genteelly in the waves of the fountain. Slowly, the sounds of the mall filter back in. Someone nearby snickers and someone else starts to clap. In his peripheral, Seokjin can see a few teenagers recording and slowly, he closes his eyes. If he goes viral, there is no way his manager will keep him.
You seem to realize the same thing, glancing around you in panic. Seokjin realizes your situation is noticeably worse than his, since you were wearing a white t-shirt when you fell. The material sticks to your skin, making each curve of your body apparent.
Seokjin swallows, understanding crashing into him with all the subtlety of a lightning bolt.
He likes you.
Fuck. Seokjin likes you, and he is a giant idiot.
Snickering at the food court grabs Seokjin’s attention. It appears he is not the only one to have noticed your shirt. At least your bra is white, but this does not seem to matter to fifteen-year-old boys.
Glancing down, you inhale and cover your chest. Seokjin awkwardly tries to stand, rushing forward to help but slips in the process, nearly falling again. It does not seem as though you desire his help anyways, springing to your feet with tears in your eyes.
Teeth chattering, you hold one hand before you. “Stay away,” you blurt, wet strands of hair plastered against your face. As though unable to help yourself, your lower lip quivers. “I fucking mean it, Seokjin. Stay away from me.”
Seokjin’s feet falter beneath him. “I…” Staring at you, he slowly nods in defeat. “Okay.”
You bend, scooping the helicopter into your arms before turning away.
Giving him another scowl, you climb from the fountain. Your sneakers make squishing noises against the linoleum as you stalk through the food court. Seokjin continues to stand there, ignoring the water jets which repeatedly hit his kneecaps.
His stomach sinks, watching you disappear.
Logically, Seokjin should go and find mall security. He should explain to them what happened before they find him, or worse – before he goes viral on the web. Less logically, Seokjin wants to run after you. He cannot simply leave things between you like that.
At the very least, he should find you a dry t-shirt. Maybe Hoseok could get him one from Foot Locker.
Because this is partly his fault. Seokjin was not the one who took over the drone and he did not push you into the fountain, but you only reacted that way because of how Seokjin has treated you. It was not a wild leap of thought to assume Seokjin was the culprit.
Before he can think about this further, a laugh breaks through the crowd. Turning around, Seokjin sees Chad running towards him.
“Wow.” Chad skids to a stop at the fountain. “That was incredible. Did you see how wet she was? And guess who got it all on camera?” He winks, waving his phone.
“Did you?” Seokjin speaks pleasantly, although he is starting to see red. “Can I see that?”
“Sure.” Chad grins, handing over the phone.
Accepting the object, Seokjin promptly throws this into the fountain.
Chad’s mouth drops open. “What the fuck?” he blurts, watching the metal sink to the bottom.
Seokjin brushes off his hands. “You’re fired,” he says, stepping out of the fountain. Water drips from his shirt, splashing the ground at his feet.
Chad’s eyes bug. “You can’t fire me, asshole. You’re not my manager.”
“Maybe not.” Seokjin shrugs and walks past. His hands open and close, curling into fists. “But he likes me better than you and he’ll believe me when I say this was your fault.”
“You dick!”
“That’s right,” Seokjin mutters. He glances at your kiosk, only to find it empty – Brandi must be helping you to clean up. Something twinges in his chest, knowing this is partly his fault. “I guess I am.”
One week later, Seokjin cannot stop thinking about you.
He tries to forget. Truly, he does but this proves itself to be more difficult than he realized. Seokjin did not understand before, how deeply you integrated yourself in his life. He did not realize how much he looked forward each day to your banter, to hearing your laugh whenever he passed by your kiosk. The past month has been bearable only because of your presence.
Slumped at the counter of Auntie Anne’s pretzels, Seokjin stares forlornly across the food court.
“Either smile or move.”
Seokjin turns to Yoongi in confusion. “Huh?”
“Either smile,” Yoongi repeats. “Or move. You’re bumming out all my customers.”
Seokjin glances at the empty food court before him. It is 10:00 AM. “What customers?”
“Exactly. All my customers are scared off by how sad you are.”
Seokjin manages a weak chuckle. “Trust me, my face is not what’s driving your customers away. If anything, it’s your latest SoundCloud mix.”
Yoongi frowns, perturbed. “Take that back.”
Seokjin winces, seeing the genuine hurt on his face. “Sorry, man,” he mumbles. “I’m just not in a great mood today.”
“No shit.”
Seokjin cracks a smile. “That obvious, huh?”
“Much in the same way climate change is obvious to everyone but the Cheeto.”
Stifling a laugh, Seokjin quickly sobers. “I just… I don’t know. I thought she’d hear me out, at least.”
The entire past week, Seokjin has parked at the opposite end of the mall from your kiosk. It makes his morning walk shorter, but somehow lonelier.
“So, this is about her, huh?” Yoongi lowers his elbows to the counter. “She’s gone incommunicado.”
“Yeah, it’s about her. I guess I can’t really blame her for being mad at me.”
“No?”
Seokjin shakes his head. “I was kind of a dick.”
Yoongi snorts. “She was a dick, too.”
“Yeah, but I started it.” Seokjin takes a sip of his coffee. “I was the one who approached her all weird, called her the competition. That set a tone.”
“Okay.” Yoongi tilts his head, thinking. “So, what’re you gonna do about it?”
“I’m going to do nothing about it.”
“Then stop complaining to me.”
“I’m not complaining!” Seokjin looks up and sighs. “Alright, maybe I’m complaining a little. I just… wish I’d realized I liked her sooner.”
“Who cares about that? Tell her now!”
“But she hates me.”
“She hated you then!”
Seokjin glares and takes another sip of his coffee – sputtering, he chokes, “Oh, shit – that’s hot.”
“Hey.” Yoongi gives him a look. “She thinks you messed with her job. That’s way different than wearing tight pants, or putting on a fidget show, or whatever.”
“Fidget spinner show, Yoongi. Fidget show sounds like something else.”
“Both are lame,” Yoongi says. “And my point still stands. She’s mad at you now because of something you didn’t do. Now, move your elbow – I need to clean that spot before lunch.”
Seokjin obliges, dutifully removing himself from the counter. Drinking his coffee, he stares out at the food court. Up until now, Seokjin thought he was doing the noble thing. He was respecting your wishes by giving you space. You said you did not wish to see him again.
Yoongi is right, though. You said all that laboring under a misconception. More than respecting the words said in anger, perhaps it is better for Seokjin to tell you the truth. Maybe pretending to be noble is just another way of chickening out.
Because if Seokjin explains everything to you and you still do not care, it means he is alone in all this. His feelings are one-sided and everything before now was merely a rivalry. The spark Seokjin feels when he looks at you, the burning desire to kiss you – if you knew all that and still hated him, then Seokjin would be alone.
Seokjin exhales and looks up. “Gotta go,” he says, slapping the counter. “See you after your shift?’
“Wait!” Yoongi catches his arm before Seokjin can leave. “Bracelet buddies?” he grins, holding up the pink cat charm wound around his wrist.
Seokjin groans, dutifully rolling up his sleeve to showcase the pale pink alpaca. “Bracelet buddies,” he says glumly.
Yoongi gave him the gift several days ago; payback, he said, for all the women Seokjin has sent his way with the promise of a free pretzel. That used to be Seokjin’s way of scoring dates at the mall. At least, before he met you. Seokjin is obligated to wear said bracelet for three months, or else Yoongi will send their friends pictures of him sleeping with his mouth open on the couch.
If he is being honest, Seokjin does not entirely hate the bracelet. The alpaca is kind of cute, but Yoongi cannot ever know that. Waving goodbye, he manages to scowl and keep up appearances when he heads towards his kiosk.
For the next several days, Seokjin continues to wimp out.
Kind of.
While he does not actually explain what happened, he tries to make up for it in other ways. On Monday, he overhears you telling the Kay Jewelers girl the legs of your stool are too short. As a result, Seokjin volunteers to work late and stays long after closing. Before he leaves, he goes to your kiosk and switches your stool for his.
On Thursday morning, your shifts overlap. Seokjin sees you yawn passing his kiosk, mentioning to Brandi you did not sleep well the night prior. Ducking behind his counter, Seokjin does not make eye contact.
Still, he stops by Java Joe’s on his break and begs Taehyung for coffee.
Taking the long way back through the mall, Seokjin visits your kiosk. It is the first time he has tried talking to you since the Great Fountain debacle. As you come into view, Seokjin swallows and forces the words from his lips.
“Hey.” He comes to a stop at the register.
You freeze when you see him. “Um. Hi?”
Seokjin holds the coffee tray out like a shield. “I was at Java Joe’s and Taehyung brewed too much espresso. Lisa doesn’t drink it, so I was wondering if you wanted it?”
Your lips part, staring at him for a moment.
When you do not immediately respond, Seokjin starts to sweat. “You don’t have to take it,” he says quickly. “I can give it to someone else. It’s too much for me though, and you were on the way back from the shop…”
Trailing off, Seokjin wonders if this entire endeavor is foolish. The tray he is holding is full – four, small cups of espresso which cost an hour of pay. Of course, you do not need to know that. You only need to know that he thought of you.
“I – yeah,” you say slowly, reaching out for a cup. “Thanks, Seokjin.”
Seokjin blinks, since your response was almost cordial. Before he can get too excited about this, Brandi appears.
“Wow, thanks!” she enthuses, grabbing a cup. “That was so nice of you to do this.”
“Right.” Seokjin deflates just a little. It is not as if he does not want Brandi to have espresso, but he was hoping for a shared moment with you. “Just spreading the love – or caffeine, as it were. Anyways…” His laughter trails off, gaze darting to you. “Guess I have one more cup to distribute. Enjoy!”
He turns around too fast for you to respond.
Each step he takes, Seokjin half-expects to hear you call out behind him. If this were pre-Fountain Incident, you probably would have. An insult, or horrible pun – something to let Seokjin know you were watching him walk away, but now there is only silence.
This goes on for a week. Seokjin continues to do nice things for you, passing by in the hopes you will say hi. He holds his breath and hopes you will speak first, but it seems you are determined to continue icing him out.
Seokjin supposes he cannot blame you for this. It is not as though you were friends, after all.
He has almost accepted the idea that you will continue being strangers when one day, Seokjin looks up and finds you at the register.
All words instantly die in his throat.
If he thought he was in the process of getting over you, Seokjin was sorely mistaken. The days of silence have not lessened his want, but only intensified it. It makes him swallow, uncertain, which must be a first. Out of all his friends, Seokjin is not the one to call shy.
Tentatively, you smile and Seokjin realizes he still has not spoken.
“H-hi,” he stammers.
Your shoulders seem to relax at his nervousness. “Hi. Is this a bad time?”
“No,” Seokjin says, slamming his register shut. “Lisa is on break, but it’s been a slow afternoon.”
“Yeah,” you exhale. “Same. Guess we finally found those lulls you were on about.”
Seokjin chuckles under his breath. The space between you falls silent again.
“I, uh…” Twisting your hands before you, you seem unsure what to say. “I haven’t seen you around, lately.”
Seokjin’s heart stutters. “Oh. I guess.”
“That’s kind of my fault,” you say. Seokjin’s gaze drops to your hands, which continue to twist. He finds the gesture oddly endearing. “I was the one who told you to stay away.”
Arching a brow, Seokjin turns towards the register. He does not know what to say without being rude. Yes, seems like the most obvious answer, but that could be construed as impolite. Casually, he sneaks a peek sideways. You are right, though – this is partly your fault, also. Even if the other fault is his own.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “I don’t blame you for saying that, though.”
“You don’t?”
Curiosity laces your tone and Seokjin looks up, surprised to see a question mark in your gaze.
“Brandi told me Chad was fired,” you add.
Seokjin stills. “Yeah. He was.”
You pause, as though waiting for an explanation. When none comes, you narrow your eyes. “He was the one who messed with that drone, wasn’t he? Not you.”
“I – yeah, I guess so.”
Exasperation enters your gaze. “Well, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did!” Seokjin protests. “I told you when we were chasing after the drone and you didn’t believe me!”
“Oh,” you say, wilting a bit. “Right.”
Seeing your face, Seokjin softens. “Look, it’s not a big deal.”
“Is it?” you ask in disbelief. “I yelled at you in front of the entire mall for something you didn’t do, and you’re saying its fine?”
Seokjin’s lips quirk. “Well, when you put it like that.”
When you roll your eyes at the ceiling, he laughs. Weirdly, it feels good to have you disparage him a little. It feels as though you are on even footing again.
“I mean, it’s not like we were friends,” Seokjin continues. “Why wouldn’t you think it was me?”
“Hm.” You blink, taken aback. “I guess you’re right.”
After another long moment, Seokjin adds, “We could try to be friends now, though. If you want.”
You bite down on your lip. “Are you giving me a formal offer, Seokjin? Should I sign on the dotted line somewhere?”
“I can make a contract if you want. All good peace treaties are in writing.”
“Is that what this is? A peace treaty?”
“Of a sort.” Seokjin raises a brow. “I can’t promise to stop kicking your ass in sales, though. I was born talented.”
“Or, maybe it’s Maybelline,” you shoot back. “I wouldn’t want you to stop, though. It’s been too quiet around here without you blasting Backstreet Boys.”
“Liked what you heard?”
“Who doesn’t like Backstreet Boys?”
“Monsters.”
“Agreed.”
“Wow.” Seokjin’s brow furrows. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever agreed with me.”
“I know.” After a moment, you frown. “It’s oddly unsettling.”
Seokjin laughs – a short, surprised burst which makes you smile. “Well...” Trailing off, he finds himself unsure what more to say. “Is that why you came over?”
“Let’s see.” You lift a hand, ticking things off on your fingers. “Tell you I know you didn’t sabotage my job. Check. Ask to be friends? Check. Oh,” you add, as though only remembering. “There was something else I wanted to say.
Seokjin waits, holding his breath as you start to lean in.
Angelic, you smile. “I lied before,” you say. “We aren’t having a lull. See you around!”
Dropping a wink, you turn to walk across the food court. Seokjin watches you go, legs having effectively turned to jelly in your presence. It is unfair that you have this effect on him. Slowly, he lowers himself onto his stool. It would seem the two of you are friends now.
Dragging a hand through his hair, Seokjin wonders what he has gotten himself into.
Over the next couple of weeks, Seokjin stops by your kiosk more often. He learns your usual morning coffee order – a grande iced Americano – and occasionally brings it along. You seem to have switched to the morning shift, he notices. Before, it was about fifty-fifty which time of the day you showed up.
At some point, Seokjin explains about his former job and current app development side projects. This turns into a running joke of him bouncing ideas off you.
“Okay,” you say, folding your hands across a wan food court table.
Seokjin takes a sip of his coffee. “Okay, what?”
“Okay, what’s today’s app idea?”
Seokjin snorts. It is 10:00 AM and neither of you must be at your shift yet but somehow, you both managed to arrive early.
“What about this?” Seokjin leans back in his chair. “Angry birds, but – instead of birds, its photos of friends that you upload yourself.”
“Pass.”
“Hm. A Bachelorette fantasy league app?”
“Hard no.”
“Okay, so this one is a kid’s game.”
“Go on.”
“A kid’s game where you change the oil of your dad’s car as fast as you can.”
You snort, nearly spilling your drink. “Seokjin! That’s a terrible app idea.”
“Bonus points if you spill no oil on the driveway!”
“Seokjin!”
He grins. “Yeah, Yoongi said it was bad, too. I don’t get it.”
“Please.” Shaking your head, your smile fades the longer you look at him. “I don’t believe any of those are your actual idea, though.”
“Huh?” Seokjin blinks. “What do you mean?”
“Those are just the ideas you tell people to make them laugh,” you observe. “It gets them off your back, so you don’t have to say your actual idea. You know, the one you really care about.”
Seokjin pauses, mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t know what you mean.”
You arch a brow. “I get it. That’s how I am with my writing. Freelance doesn’t exactly pay for dreams, does it? I tend to downplay my favorite ideas, so then if they don’t work out – hey, at least it wasn’t something I cared about. You know?”
Seokjin is not quite sure how to respond. In only a few sentences, you have looked inside him and summarized his thoughts. No one – not even Yoongi, whom Seokjin has known for years – is able to read him as well.
Inhaling gently, Seokjin leans back from the table. “Well,” he admits. “There is this one idea.”
“Oh?”
Nodding, Seokjin considers where to begin. “Do you know what fair lending is?”
“Not really, no.”
“It’s the unbiased treatment of customers by banks.” Seokjin pauses and, when you do not seem bored with the topic, begins to speak freely. “It ensures financial institutions provide uniform services, regardless of bias.”
“Gotcha. So, it’s like equal opportunity but for banks?”
“Kind of, yeah.” Seokjin exhales. “Basically, I want to create a fair lending app. There is a lot out there to help with credit decisions and stuff, but I want to put it all in one place. I want to break down the ‘non-biased metrics’ banks use and warn people how there could be bias involved.”
Your frown. “What do you mean?”
“Take income, for example.” Seokjin grips his cup tighter. “The vast majority of people below the poverty line are minorities. So, if a bank has a hard and fast income requirement for a loan, they inadvertently discriminate. It’s why a variety of factors are mandated to assist in … what?” Seokjin blinks, seeing you staring. “What is it?”
Hiding a smile, you shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just a cool idea. I think you should do it.”
“But then who will make bachelorette fantasy app?” Seokjin jokes, ducking his head.
“Someone else.” You wait until he looks up. “Do the fair lending app.”
Seokjin finds he cannot think of another joke. “Alright,” he says slowly. “It’s a plan.”
You nod, sipping your coffee as silence falls in between you. It is unnerving, how easy it is for Seokjin to talk to you. With most people, it takes him a while to show his true colors but with you, he finds he cannot be anyone else.
Glancing at his watch, Seokjin realizes how late it is. “Shit,” he mutters, jumping out of his seat. “It’s nearly 10:30.”
You wince, standing as well. “Damn, do you have to open today?”
“Unfortunately so.” Seokjin grabs his coffee. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay, Y/N?”
“Okay,” you say, waving when he turns out of sight.
Seokjin does not hesitate to walk away. He curses himself the entire way to his kiosk because he is becoming much too comfortable with being your friend. Enough that he keeps catching himself thinking about more.
It is hard not to think about his hands wrapped around yours on your coffee cup. Hard not to imagine carpooling with you in his car to work. Seokjin tries to be on his best behavior but still, the fantasies worm their way in.
It is why he has created several rules of conduct around you. First and foremost is never stay for too long. The second Seokjin feels himself becoming attached, he leaves. Like now, for instance. Seokjin does not really have to be at the kiosk before eleven but the way you were looking at him made his heart beat out of his chest.
Self-preservation, he reminds himself.
The rules are working until Taehyung throws a party.
“Saturday night,” Taehyung grunts, slamming Seokjin’s coffee order on the counter.
Seokjin blinks, reaching up to take both cups. Lately, Taehyung has been in the worst kind of mood. This mostly seems to stem from his hot co-worker who will not take him seriously. All the guys in the mall gave him shit about it before, but the kid really does seem to like her. Which sucks, since Taehyung has a reputation and the pretty barista clearly has heard of it.
“The party is at your place?” asks Seokjin, glancing up at the counter.
Taehyung nods. Loud enough for his co-worker to hear, he adds, “The party will be at my place this weekend! Can’t wait to see you there, Seokjin!”
Seokjin snorts, shaking his head. “You’re whipped, man,” he whispers. Then, loud enough for the female barista to hear, he adds, “I’ll be there! In fact, everyone should come!”
The girl does not react, busy at the register and Seokjin shrugs.
Sorry man, he mouths to Taehyung before pushing open the door. Making his way through the mall, Seokjin walks past your kiosk – only to see you deep in conversation with another guy. Seokjin does not recognize him as your co-worker, but he does recognize him from the gym.
Occasionally, Jungkook talks to him before they work out. Seokjin never found the guy threatening before.
Seeing him now though, the oddest sensation unfurls in his stomach. He does not want you talking to this guy – the desire flashes through Seokjin’s mind faster than he can stop it. Before he can turn around and leave though, before Seokjin can separate himself from the situation, you look up and smile.
“Hey, Seokjin!”
“Hey, Y/N.” Plastering a smile on his face, Seokjin forces himself to walk towards your kiosk. “And you are…?” he asks, looking at the stranger.
The guy grins, unconcerned. “Hey, I’m Josh.”
“Cool.” Seokjin returns to looking at you. “Are you coming to Taehyung’s party this weekend, Y/N?”
Everyone at the mall knows who Taehyung is. He is a staple for anyone who drinks coffee – and chances are, if you have stopped by Java Joe’s in the past three days, you are invited.
Your eyes widen. “I was thinking about it.”
“Cool.” Seokjin casually leans an elbow against your kiosk. He forgets about the wheels though, and as a result, the entire thing starts to move. Frantically attempting to right this, Seokjin nearly spills his coffee in the process.
“Anyways…” he mutters, ears turning scarlet.
You clamp your lips tightly together. “So, you’re going to be there?”
Seokjin nods. He has no idea what he is doing. He has no idea what Josh is doing, since he has not said a word since introducing himself.
Glancing at him now, Seokjin is reminded of Chad. Not because the two look anything alike, but because they both have that air about them. That condescending, could-bench-press-you-in-seconds look. Seokjin bets that, at some point in the past ten days, Josh has worn a snapback.
You are standing close very close to him, though. Seokjin cannot ignore this fact.
“Cool.” Your gaze lingers on his. “Then, I guess I’ll see you there?”
Seokjin nods. “Guess so. We’ll see!”
He turns, walking away and overhears Josh ask you details about the party. Gritting his teeth, Seokjin uncurls his hands from their fists. You are not his to be jealous of, he reminds himself. He has no right to be angry if you decide to date someone else. But still, Seokjin’s mood remains sour for the rest of the day.
You do not visit at the end of your shift. If could be because you are genuinely busy. Or, it could be something else. Or, someone.
Seokjin has the next two days off. He uses them to work on his fair lending app, getting a good bit of coding done in his apartment. Your voice plays in his mind as he works, telling him to go for what he wants.
Seokjin is tired of working at the Fidget Funk. He is tired of waking up every morning, going to a job he hates and feeling as though he is doing nothing with his life. What was supposed to be a temp job has stretched into months and Seokjin needs to act for anything about this to change.
There is only so long he can complain before doing something about it.
He wants to do what he loves; wants to do something he cares about – not this. Sometimes, making that decision is the hardest part.
The night of the party, Seokjin drives there with Yoongi. Yoongi, surprisingly agrees to come with little coercion. Usually, Seokjin needs to drag his taciturn roommate to social events. He was easily convinced tonight though, which results in Seokjin being more nervous than normal.
As they enter Taehyung’s apartment, he pauses on the threshold.
If he had your number, he would have texted to see if you were coming, but Seokjin does not and so, he could not. Wandering into the room, Seokjin winces when no one removes their shoes. Parties are always strangely barbaric in that regard.
Taehyung’s apartment with his roommate, Jimin, is much larger than his. Seokjin remembers Taehyung saying Jimin came from money but does not remember specifics. Jimin is a night nurse at NorthShore Medical center and often stops by Java Joe’s in the morning for coffee. Other than that, Seokjin does not know much about him.
Walking inside, Seokjin realizes Taehyung has downplayed Jimin’s wealth. There is no way they could afford this place on a nurse and barista salary. A bunch of people are outside – because there is an outside; a large balcony overlooking the city – chatting about nothing over the rims of their drinks.
Yoongi disappears as soon as they enter, heading off to god-knows-where. He leaves Seokjin alone, who shifts his weight about nervously. Glancing up, he spots Namjoon in the kitchen and hastily rushes towards him. Finally, a familiar face.
“Joon!” he calls out.
Namjoon waves, re-filling the cup in his hand. When Seokjin reaches his side, he hands another to Seokjin. “Hey,” Namjoon nods. “You just get here?”
“Yeah.” Seokjin scans the party again, red cup in one hand. “Is everything c –”
Cutting himself off mid-sentence, Seokjin stares when you walk into the room. Everything he wanted to say falls from his brain to the floor. It is not unlike that one scene in She’s All That, when Laney comes down the stairs and Freddie Prinze Jr. loses his mind. Seokjin cannot think, looking at you.
A red cup is in your hand, matching the red gloss on your lips and god, Seokjin cannot stop thinking about kissing it off.
He swallows, hard – and then notices the guy at your side.
You laugh, turning sideways to Josh. Because that is who it is, of course – the same muscle- bound jock you were talking to at the drone kiosk earlier.
Jungkook appears as well, clapping Josh on the shoulder. Seokjin scowls, swallowing a larger sip of his drink than intended. First, this guy tries to steal his girl and now, his best friend. Eyes widening, Seokjin straightens. Shit, you are not his girl. He needs to stop thinking that way.
“Seokjin?”
Seokjin realizes Namjoon is staring at him. “Uh, yeah?”
“You trailed off in the middle of a sentence and have been hard-core staring at that girl ever since. Is – oh!” Namjoon’s eyes light up. “That’s her, isn’t it?”
“That’s who?” Seokjin hastily swallows his drink.
“The girl! Fountain girl!” Namjoon shoves him. “The one you’re head over heels for!”
“Okay, fountain girl is a horrible way of describing her. And yeah, maybe that’s – shit, shut up,” Seokjin hisses. “She’s coming this way.”
Namjoon snorts into his drink. You are, indeed, waking towards them but Josh is no longer beside you. Craning his neck, Seokjin looks over your shoulder but does not see the guy anywhere.
“Hey.” You come to a stop right before them, glancing at Namjoon. “Namjoon, right?”
Namjoon sticks out a hand. “Yep. Y/N?”
You take this, stifling a smile as you shake. “Yeah.”
“And, of course, you know Seokjin.” Namjoon grins at Seokjin’s flustered expression.
“Uh-huh,” you say, offering him a tentative smile. “We go way back.”
Feeling somewhat nauseous, Seokjin takes another sip of his drink. “Y/N and I are friends.”
A flash of something – uncertainty? Annoyance? – crosses your features. “Right,” you say carefully. “Friends.”
Your expression remains stubborn though, and Seokjin wonders if he has done something wrong. Changing the subject, he glances around the apartment. “Have you been here before, Y/N?”
“No,” you confess. “But damn – which roommate won the lottery?”
Seokjin grins. “I know, right? I can show you around if you want.”
You blink, taken aback by his offer and Seokjin wonders if that was too forward. Well, fuck it – he is not getting anywhere by being subtle.
“Yeah,” you say, recovering yourself. “I’d like that.”
Pushing himself off the counter, Seokjin says goodbye to Namjoon and plunges into the party. He continues to look for hot gym guy, Josh, but does not see him anywhere. It is unlikely you came here together, but not impossible. Perhaps the two of you are dating. Perhaps you like him and want to date him in the future.
Seokjin is so busy running through what-if scenarios, he does not notice you looking at him.
“Right, so Taehyung and Jimin’s rooms are that way.” Seokjin leads through the crowd. “Aka, that hall is off limits. This is the living area and well, you already saw the balcony.” Steps faltering, Seokjin looks sideways at you. “Did you see the balcony?”
You shake your head. “Nope.”
“Scared of heights?”
“Not really, no.”
“Well, then you’re lucky.” Seokjin mutters, pushing open the sliding glass door. “Luck you never met that dick, Jared Karinsky.”
Laughing, you follow him out on the balcony. There are only a few other people outside and, once the door slides shut, it feels as though you are trapped in another world.
“Who’s Jared Karinksy?”
Glowering, Seokjin takes a sip of his drink. “Some dick who knew I didn’t like heights, but still brought me to the top of the jungle gym. Then, he left me there. It took two hours for my brother to find me and get me back down.”
Laughing, you lean against the railing. “I take it that didn’t help?”
“It did not,” says Seokjin. “If anything, my fear was worse after.”
You grin, draining the rest of your cup as the wind ruffles your hair. It makes Seokjin’s heart ache a bit to look at.
“Well, I have to say –”
The glass door slides open, interrupting whatever you were about to say. Josh’s head pops out. “Y/N!” he grins. “I was looking for you.”
You slowly turn towards the interruption. “I... oh. Hey, Josh.”
“Are you busy?” Josh glances between you and Seokjin.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Seokjin feels oddly foolish. It seems obvious now, that you came here with Josh. You must have been making a beeline for drinks when you ran into Seokjin in the kitchen. Seokjin assumed, then. He thought you were free. When he grabbed you, he was yanking you away from the guy you really wanted to be with.
“Not busy.” Seokjin drains the rest of his cup. “Not busy at all. Have fun,” he mutters, brushing your shoulder as he moves towards the door.
When he leaves, Seokjin does not look back and so, he does not see your lips part. He does not watch you stare after him with equal parts frustration and anger. All Seokjin sees is the kitchen before him, full of alcohol for him to consume. Alcohol he will need to get through the rest of this party.
He is almost to the kitchen when a hand grips his arm, yanking him around. “What the fuck was that?” you say, brows furrowed.
Seokjin stares at you, alarmed you are in such close proximity. “I – huh? What the fuck was what?”
You scowl, leaning in and Seokjin leans back. “That!” you demand, waving vaguely at the balcony. “Why did you run away?”
“Run away?” Seokjin’s gaze darts towards the offending location. “I thought you wanted to talk to that guy?”
“Why would you think that?” you ask, brows furrowing further.
“I…” Seokjin finds himself at a loss. “I don’t know. Didn’t you come here with him?”
“With Josh?” You wrinkle your nose. “You mean – my cousin, Josh?”
“…cousin?”
You nod, looking at him incredulously. “You thought I wanted to talk to my cousin, Josh, as opposed to you?”
A lightbulb clicks in Seokjin’s mind. “I – he’s your cousin?”
“Yes, he’s my cousin.” Scowling, you take a step closer. “But even if he weren’t, why would you just leave like that? We were in the middle of a conversation!”
“I don’t know!” he blurts, gaze narrowing at your tone.
Out of the two of you, Seokjin is the one with the right to be angry. You are the one looking so damn good tonight and currently yelling at him for something he does not understand.
Vaguely aware they should not have this argument in the middle of Taehyung and Jimin’s kitchen, Seokjin grabs your wrist and tugs you into the hall. The forbidden one, next to the bedrooms. Realizing this, Seokjin keeps going and decides to beg forgiveness later.
Dropping your arm, he whirls around to find you mere inches away.
“Why didn’t you ask me to stay?” he accuses, pointing a finger. “For that matter – why didn’t you ask if I was going to the party tonight? If my presence is so important to you.”
Glaring at him, you bat his finger away. “You asked me first! Besides, I thought it was obvious I wanted you here. You know… because of the… and…”
“Because of the what?”
Somehow, you have gotten very close to Seokjin. The tips of your toes are just brushing his. Electricity crackles between you, making Seokjin’s heartbeat oddly erratic.
Glowering, your gaze darts to his lips. “Oh – seriously? Shut up and kiss me, you ass!”
Grabbing your face, Seokjin does just that. His lips crash into yours, the kiss muffled and urgent as he backs you to the wall. You groan, hands fisting in the back of his t-shirt. Seokjin cannot think beyond his hand resting on your jaw, then sliding into your hair, then moving down to your ass.
He cups you against him, head reeling from the sudden warmth of your mouth, your body and the urgency of your touch. Seokjin has never wanted someone so badly. Each brush of your lips leaves him wanting more, an endless desire alight in his veins.
Your mouth opens, tongue flicking with his as Seokjin’s heart nearly explodes. He cannot breathe – each breath mingles with yours, leaving him dizzy and parched.
“Fuck,” he groans, breaking away to lean his arm to the wall.
You stare up at him, breathless and confused. Your chest continues to rise and fall, lips swollen from the wanton press of his mouth. Seokjin cannot look away.
“I…” He exhales, glancing towards the living room. “Do you wanna get out of here?”
You nod so fast, you nearly hit your head on his chin. “Yes.”
“Okay.” Seokjin reaches down, grabbing your hand. “You good with my place? It’s only a few minutes drive.”
“Yeah,” you answer, following him down the hall. “Roommate?”
“Here. At the party.”
“Good.”
Dragging you into the foyer, Seokjin digs his phone from his pocket. Letting go of your fingers, he shoots a text off to Yoongi, telling him not to come home. He can face the consequences of that later. Shoving his phone in his pocket, Seokjin opens the door.
“Do you have a coat?” he asks, looking at you.
“Nope. You?”
“Nope.” Seokjin shuts the door to the hall and the noise of the party fades. “This way?”
“Sounds good.”
When you move to walk past, Seokjin grabs your hand – he cannot help himself. Pushing you against the wall, he relishes your muffled exclamation of surprise and kisses you fiercely. Thoroughly. The way he has wanted to for so long.
Hands sliding into your hair, Seokjin feels you arch against him. Your hand is on his hip, pulling him closer and Seokjin cannot stop thinking about your hand on other places.
When he finally breaks away, you stare at his lips. “That’s…” You swallow, voice sounding strangled. “Fuck.”
Seokjin grins. “Come on.”
Grabbing you again, he pulls you into the elevator. The entire way down, the air between you is electric. Seokjin shifts his weight and you follow suit. Raising a hand, you rub the back of your neck. Seokjin’s skin prickles when he sees.
When the door dings, opening into the lobby, you suddenly come to life. Newly determined, your hand wraps around his and pulls Seokjin outside. He practically throws his keys at the valet, wondering how on earth he is going to survive the drive home without touching you. Thank god he only had that one drink tonight. It would have been torture to be so close to fucking you and then not.
Startled by the thought, Seokjin realizes the truth of the matter. He is going to see you naked. Whirling to face you, Seokjin blurts, “This isn’t some random thing. You know that, right?”
Surprised, you glance at him. “I – what?”
“This.” Seokjin steps closer and his peripheral, sees the valet hop out of his car. “I really like you, Y/N.”
Staring up at him, you blink. “You do?”
“Of course, I do! You thought I didn’t?”
“I thought you hated me.”
“Of course, not!” Grabbing his keys from the valet, Seokjin opens the passenger door. He waits until you sit before crossing to the driver’s side. “Why would you think that?” he asks, sliding into the seat.
You stare at him incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” Seokjin pulls out of the driveway. “I’ve liked you for so long! I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Uh! Could’ve fooled me.”
“Are you serious? I was such an idiot in front of you! What other explanation is there?”
“That you’re an idiot!” you answer, scowling. “Are you seriously saying that was your idea of flirting?”
“I mean… well, no, but…”
You snort, facing forward. “You’re so bad at this.”
“At what?”
“This!” you insist, gesturing between you.
“Oh, come on! Like you’re Juliet, or something.”
“Who?”
“Juliet! Of Romeo and Juliet!”
“They… Seokjin, they died in the end!” you say incredulously.
“Well, what do I know?” Seokjin makes a sharp right, pulling into his parking lot. “I never finished reading that play, actually – fell asleep a third of the way in. What I’m trying to say is that you’re also shit at this.”
“Oh, really?”
“You said you never wanted to speak to me again,” Seokjin reminds, throwing the car into park.
Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt. “I apologized for that.”
“You were the one who said you wanted to be friends!” Seokjin shoves open his door and exits the vehicle.
You exit as well, slamming the door shut. “Well, it seemed like the next logical step!”
“No.” Seokjin strides forward. Caging you against the car, he growls, “The next logical step would’ve been admitting you liked me, too.”
“Too?” You blink, stuck on the word. “So, you admit you like me?”
“Never said I didn’t.”
These last words are muttered against your lips, Seokjin cutting off further retorts with a kiss.
Arching upwards, your hands twine around his neck. Seokjin’s mind stutters, unsure what to think. His brain is a vague mess of swear words and exclamation points when his lips move against yours. It is hard to grasp the fact that you are here, with him and wanting him the same way he wants you.
Breaking apart, Seokjin rests his forehead to yours. “Okay,” he manages. “I know you said you wanted to leave with me. I know you got in my car and drove all the way here. But – because I want to be sure – do you want to come in?”
Breathlessly, you laugh. “Yes.”
“Okay.” Withdrawing, Seokjin takes your hand. “Then, let’s go.”
Climbing the outdoor stairs to reach his apartment, Seokjin pulls the keys from his pocket so he is prepared to enter. He does not check his phone, certain Yoongi has texted him multiple epithets about where he can stick his ass.
Bracing his hip against his door, Seokjin jiggles the key to shove it open. Once you are both inside, Seokjin half-expects you to wrinkle your nose. It is not as if his and Yoongi’s apartment can ever compete with Jimin and Taehyung’s.
You do none of this, though. Stepping inside, you place your purse on the counter and glance around curiously. “You live with that guy from the food court, right?” you ask, turning around. “Yoongi?”
Stepping forward, Seokjin crushes his mouth to yours.
You inhale, the noise caught by his lips when your hands slide up his back. One of your legs curls around his, rubbing your core against the meat of his thigh. Seokjin’s head spins, gripping your ass to push you against the counter. You make a muffled noise, gasping when Seokjin hardens into your crotch.
It is embarrassing how ready he is for you. All it took where a few whispered words about how badly you want him and here he is, rock-hard and on edge. Admittedly, the noises you make are not helping.
“Shit,” Seokjin breathes, kissing down the slope of your neck.
You arch your throat, allowing more access. Your skin tastes of berries and something else – probably a perfume Seokjin does not know the name of. The warm press of your core to his leg leaves Seokjin reeling.
“My room?” he gasps, hand dragging up your side.
Frantic, you nod. “Yes.”
Bending, Seokjin grips your legs and lifts you against him. He stumbles towards his bedroom, realizing too late you are heavier than he thought. Maybe Jungkook was right about adding weight to his reps. Kissing you again, Seokjin staggers into his bedroom and drops you on the bed.
Laughing, you grab your top to yank overhead. There is some skepticism to your gaze, as though you expected him to fall short in carrying you. Seokjin’s ego flames in response. Growling lowly, he rips off his shirt and descends on the bed. Parting your legs, he presses a kiss to your thigh.
“Take off your jeans.” Seokjin looks up.
You blink. “What?”
“I wanna eat you out.” Seokjin cocks a brow. “Or, is that too much?”
“No,” you glower, undoing your buttons. “Go for it.”
As you shimmy your jeans down your legs, Seokjin’s mouth dries at the sight of your panties. He did not imagine them to be lace. He did not imagine them to be quite as revealing as they are. Slowly, Seokjin reaches out to peel these aside. You inhale, arching on the bed. Seeing your pussy like that, laid out before him, he can hardly breathe.
You are wet for him. Theoretically, this makes sense, but Seokjin did not think he could make you wet. Did not think he would ever see you as drenched as you are, the lace in the middle much damper than the rest. Pressing another kiss to your knee, Seokjin inhales and makes his way higher.
Flicking your clit with his tongue, he teases at more. You mewl, curling inwards and Seokjin pushes your legs down. He sucks the length of your folds, getting you good and wet before he returns to your sex. You arch again, pussy clenching even through there is nothing inside you.
Smirking, Seokjin takes pleasure in this fact. Your folds are glistening, ready even though has not touched you yet. He has not even pushed a finger inside that tight, wet cunt of yours. Lowering his head, Seokjin’s tongue curls over your clit. He turns needy, licking until your hands fist in the sheets on either side of your body.
“Seokjin,” you groan. “Please.”
“Please what?”
Seokjin leisurely sucks on your clit, pulling it between his lips. His other hand drifts to your cunt, tracing in circles.
You moan beneath him on the bed, arching to try and push him inside. Seokjin memorizes the visual – the black lace of your bra barely hiding your nipples, hair splayed on his comforter with his hands on your thighs.
“I need more.”
“Yeah?” Seokjin lazily traces your pussy. “Want me to finger you?’
“Fuck, yes.”
“Mm.” Seokjin sucks your clit until you cry out from pleasure. Releasing you gently, he sits back on his heels to rub with his fingers. “I could probably make you come like this, though.”
Reaching underneath your body, you unhook your bra. Seokjin stares in awe at your chest, bared before him. “Probably,” you agree. “But wouldn’t it be more fun to come inside me?”
Seokjin’s teeth grit, the words going straight to his cock. Already, it pulses against the tight fit of his jeans – when he feels how wet you are, Seokjin cannot stop imagining himself inside you. Grabbing your wrist, he brings your hand to his crotch.
You inhale when you feel how hard he is. “You’re so… big,” you murmur. “Will you even fit?’
Seokjin smirks, bending until his lips cover yours. “Not yet,” he agrees, spreading your legs with one hand. Stroking your center, he wets himself with your arousal. “That’s why I gotta stretch you out first. Get you ready for this dick.”
“O-h,” you gasp, mouth a perfect o as Seokjin’s finger pushes inside.
It is a tight stretch. Seokjin feels a bit light-headed, imagining something so tight and wet wrapped around him. Withdrawing, he pushes a finger inside you again. Rolling your hips, you force Seokjin deeper and he clicks his tongue, hand grabbing your waist.
“You don’t get to be in control,” he instructs, finger sliding back out. Adding another one, he slowly fucks you again. “You just have to lie there and take it.”
“Good,” you breathe, two of his fingers inside you. “Finally. I’ve been wanting you to yank my panties down and fuck me for weeks now.”
Seokjin’s jaw clenches – shaking his head, he is certain he must have misheard. “What?”
A smile curls your lips. “You heard me,” you say sweetly, pussy squelching as Seokjin’s fingers slide in and out. “You’re so hot when you’re mad. Why do you think I teased you so much? Wanted your dick in my mouth to shut me up.”
Heat blazes through Seokjin’s veins. He has never been this turned on in his life – hearing such sinful things from your angelic lips. Sitting back on his heels, Seokjin frantically undoes his jeans.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he mutters, pushing them past his ass.
Yanking out his cock, Seokjin wraps a hand around his girth. He rubs himself roughly, ignoring the pre-cum dripping from his reddened tip. Already, he is steeling himself to not come inside you. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you watch him touching himself, lips parted in awe. Seokjin stares back, realizing you are as tuned on by him as he is by you.
Your gaze darts to his face. “Condom?” you ask, voice unsteady. “I don’t think I’ll last long once you’re inside me.”
Nodding, Seokjin grabs one from his drawer. Ripping open the packet, he rolls this on. Lowering an arm to the bed, Seokjin positions his cock at your core. As badly as he wants to be inside you, there is something so tantalizing about teasing. Spreading your legs, Seokjin rubs his cock to your clit and watches you twitch in response.
“Seokjin,” you groan, arms sliding around his neck.
“Yeah?”
“Need you to fuck me so good,” you whine.
“Yeah?” Cock at your entrance, Seokjin slowly pushes inside. “Like that?”
“Mhmm.” You nod, breath hitching slightly. “Like that.”
“There?” Seokjin pushes in a bit more, moaning when your walls flutter around him.
You are squeezing him so fucking tight, Seokjin wonders how much more you can take. He is aware of the fact he is big. It would not be the first time a girl could not take him; would not be the first time he gave up and ate the girl out until she came.
“No!” Eyes flying open, you grab Seokjin’s wrist when he starts to withdraw. Lips parted, you stare at him in a daze. “Please keep going,” you beg. “Don’t wanna stop.”
Seokjin arches a brow. “You sure? Sure it feels good?”
“Good?” You stare at him with a fucked-out expression. “Oh my god.” Wrapping both legs around his waist, you push Seokjin in deeper. “You’re stretching me so good, baby. Can’t wait until you’re pounding this pussy.”
“Fuck,” Seokjin hisses, gaze darkening. “I think I somehow got harder.”
“I know,” you laugh, somewhat dreamily. “Felt your cock twitch inside me. So fucking hot.”
Seokjin continues to ease inside you, inch by inch until your eyes start to water. Biting down on your lip, you urge him on and before long, Seokjin bottoms out. He stops there, panting at the feeling of being so deep inside you. Glancing down, Seokjin sees your pussy split by his cock and cannot contain himself any longer. He slowly pulls out.
“What…” Grasping for his ass, you panic a bit. “Seokjin, don’t –”
Grabbing your knee, he slams back inside you. The two of you groan at the same time. Him, because he has never felt anything as tight and wet as your cunt and you because his dick is so large, your body is trembling.
“God.” You fall back on the bed, chest bouncing. “I fucking knew you were big. There was no other way you could be so annoying.”
Seokjin withdraws, reliving the sweet sensation of thrusting his cock in your tight pussy. You are so warm and so wet – now that you have been stretched, you mold easily to him.
“Fuck,” you gasp, lifting your hips to his.
Seokjin toys with you. Slowly sliding in and out, he brings his thumb to your clit and starts rubbing. “You thought I was annoying, huh?” he breathes, lips hot in your ear.
Nodding, your hands fist in the sheets. “Still do.”
Chuckling, Seokjin captures your lobe with his teeth. His hips roll against you, pressing you into the mattress. “Mm. Know what I think?”
“What?”
“You talk too much. Flip over.”
Your eyes widen. “W-what?”
“Thought you wanted me to shut you up?” Seokjin presses a sweet kiss to your mouth. “Now, flip over, so I can fuck you senseless.”
Withdrawing, he ignores every inch of him which screams to stay put. It is worth it though, when you finally flip onto your stomach and stick your ass in the air.
Inhaling, Seokjin runs a hand up your drenched pussy. Your lips are swollen, messy with slick from him eating you out. Lifting himself onto his knees, Seokjin grabs his dick and pushes against your center. Slapping your clit a few times, he hisses when he feels you tremble beneath him. Hands soft on your hips, he slides into your cunt.
“Ah!” you gasp, head thrown back from the motion.
Wrapping your hair around his wrist, Seokjin thrusts into you again. He can feel every inch of your cunt, feel the tight squeeze of your walls on his cock. God, you are driving him crazy. Thrusting harder, Seokjin cannot separate the sensations before him.
Your ass pushing back on him, the way your moans fall from your lips. The tight wetness of your heat, his cock disappearing in and out. Leaning down, Seokjin slides an arm around your ribcage and pulls you against him.
He continues to fuck you like that, cock entering your body at a punishing speed. You feel so good pressed against him, nipples hard as they peek through his palms. Seokjin’s lips find your neck, sucking a hickey into your skin.
“Fuck,” you groan, walls tightening around him. Your bodies bang together, his cock fucking you open in a way which barely seems decent. “Fuck – Seokjin – yes! Oh my god, yes.’
“Yeah?” His grip tightens around you. “You about to come on my dick, baby?”
“Yes!” you gasp. He is basically holding you up at this point, fucking you senseless. “Oh – oh! I thought… you – mmph – wanted! Me – fuck! Quiet!”
Chuckling, Seokjin slides a hand between your legs. Finding your clit, he begins to rub with his fingers. “Changed my mind,” he grunts. “Wanna hear you scream my name so loud, you wake all my neighbors.”
“S-Seokjin!”
Your legs start to shake, trembling with your impending orgasm and Seokjin is not doing much better. The only thing holding him back is the intense desire to feel you come wrapped around him.
“C’mon,” he groans, angling his hips even deeper. “Wanna feel this tight, little pussy come on my cock. Can you do that, baby? Can you?”
“Yes,” you gasp and then you are coming undone.
Seokjin groans, biting your shoulder when your pussy clamps down. Your orgasm is so intense, Seokjin is surprised he can keep you against him. Pushed over the edge, Seokjin shudders when he lets go and releases into the condom. It goes on for so long, his cock aching as you take every last bit of him.
Slowly, his hand falls and strokes down your side. Lips brushing your neck, Seokjin exhales and gently withdraws. Everything is over-sensitive, each inch of his body buzzing with satisfaction. Tying the condom into a knot, Seokjin tosses this in the garbage and sees you roll out of bed.
His stomach twists. “Where are you going?” he blurts, wincing at how needy he sounds.
It is only – you look so fucking beautiful. Hair messy and lips swollen, traces of arousal lingering on the inside of your thighs. You smile at him, as if sensing his nervousness.
“Where’s your bathroom?” you ask, sheepish.
Seokjin exhales, relief coursing through him. He points to the left. “Over there,” he says, collapsing on top of the sheets. His dick is limp, soft in his lap, but looking at you, Seokjin is already thinking about more. “Want me to show you?”
“That’s alright,” you laugh, turning around. “I think I can make it to the closet alone.”
Grinning, Seokjin falls back again. “Come back soon.”
“Okay.”
Glancing at him over your shoulder, you sneak another peek before disappearing.
Seokjin stares at his ceiling for a moment before he remembers his roommate. Wincing, he reaches down to fish his phone from his jeans. Unsurprisingly, there are several missed texts from Yoongi.
Yoongi: k lol [11:01 PM]
Yoongi doesn’t matter won’t be sleeping anyways [11:01 PM]
Yoongi: too busy eating dessert ; ) [11:01 PM]
Groaning, Seokjin plugs his phone into his charger. He guesses this means Yoongi found someone else to hook up with. Rolling over in bed, Seokjin starts when you open the door.
“Hey.” You smile, almost embarrassed. Walking towards him, you bend to scoop your underwear from the ground.
“Whoa!” Seokjin blurts, grabbing your wrist. He pulls you into the bed before you can get dressed. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Putting on clothes,” you laugh, curling into his side. “Clearly, I was wrong.”
“Mhm.” Seokjin’s nose nuzzles your hair. He is not sure why, but something about this feels right. Having your limbs entwined in his, your hand resting soft on his chest. He feels warm, satisfied by the thought of being near you.
Sleepily, you smile. “I’m not allowed to get dressed tonight, is that it?”
“Nope,” he agrees, heart soaring the longer he looks at you. “Something that good needs repeating.”
Laughing a little, you curl tighter around him. “Does that mean you want to repeat it?” you ask, uncertainty to your voice.
Sliding two fingers under your chin, Seokjin tilts your head up. “Yeah,” he says, quiet. “I can’t think of anything I want more, to be honest.”
“I – same.”
Laying your head on his chest, you are quiet for a moment as Seokjin basks in the silence. Then, he exhales and adds, “I mean, aside from trouncing your sales targets, of course. I always want to do that.”
You snort, shoving his side. Seokjin pulls you in closer, grinning widely. It is a lie, of course – right now, there is nothing he wants more than to be with you.
[ COLLABORATION MASTERLIST FOUND HERE ]
© kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.
#btsbookclub#smutcentralnet#bangtanarmynet#bts smut#bts fanfic#seokjin smut#jin smut#seokjin fanfic#jin fanfic#seokjin writing#jin writing
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High
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 1,374
Warnings: Cuteness, marijuana use
Trope: Accidental cuddling
A/N: i rewrote this oneshot like three times and they were all so drastically different but this is the one i liked the most! this is my submission for @jupiterbucky‘s 1k writing challenge! congrats clo ur one of my fav blogs on here and im so glad i could participate :) oneshot under the cut! enjoy! <3
It’s an art form. The way your delicate fingers move and bend, gentle but with purpose. Your eyes fixed on your goal and unmoving from your masterpiece. You move quick with your nimble fingers; almost there.
Five joints rolled tightly and spread neatly in a row.
Call it a post-mission ritual.
...
Outside in the hallway, Bucky is shuffling his way to the kitchen to make himself a warm glass of milk. Even after all the years he’s been alive nothing knocks him out better than a warm glass of milk. As he gets closer to the end of the hallway he notices a faint smell of... what?
His nose must be mistaking him. But when has his nose ever been wrong?
Golly, he hasn’t smelt the smell of a reefer since 1934.
But who would have marijuana in the building? On this floor? The only ones up here are you and Steve and Steve’s never gotten into any of that because of his asthma, even after he became super. Which means it’s you. You’re getting high off marijuana in your room in the middle of the night like a teenager. And suddenly Bucky finds it extremely hard to resist creeping up to your door...
You’re halfway through your second spliff when you hear a light knocking on your door. You quickly fan away smoke out the window, as if you’re back at home scared of your parents catching you, and make your way to the door.
Moving it open only a crack, you’re met with the bright, blue-gray eyes of Bucky Barnes. Intimidating guy, but a big ol’ teddy bear on the inside.
“What’s up, Buck?” You quietly inquire. You like Bucky and all, but you’d much rather get on with your... activity.
“Are you smoking marijuana cigarettes in there?” He accuses, getting straight to the point. You can spot his playful smirk from a mile away, though.
“Don’t know, you gonna tattle?” You tease back. It’s becoming harder and harder for your foggy brain to contain the giggles threatening to escape your lips.
“Depends on whether or not I’m invited, sugar.” He cheekily replies, obviously amused by your state.
“Of course! I’ve got plenty for the whole class.” The giggles escape and your smile is wide as you move aside and invite Bucky in.
Bucky watches you plop down on top of the desk next to an open grinder dirty with green dust, a lighter, and a pack of rolling papers. You’re eyes are tinged pink, you can’t hold in your giggles, and the room still stinks of skunk no matter how hard you tried to hide it.
And Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more adorable goofball.
His mind has switched from searching for a warm glass of milk, to craving the bitterness of pot like he’s sixteen again, to just kissing you silly.
He sits on the edge of the bed closest to you and watches as you relight the joint and inhale deeply. You do it once more before passing it to him in between your index and middle fingers.
He takes it from you and looks at it. He remembers all the times Steve would scold him for smoking, both marijuana and nicotine cigarettes. He thinks Steve was just jealous because he could never join him with his lung conditions.
“It won’t bite, you know.” You tease him.
Bucky glances at you and back at the joint before holding it to his lips and taking a deep inhale. The smoke enters his mouth and he feels warm. He lets the smoke seep into every corner of his mouth and throat before letting it escape through his nostrils. His eyes close in bliss because, wow, he did not remember this feeling so nice.
“Okay, Chong, no need to show off.” You pluck the joint from his fingertips, a wide grin spreading across your face.
“I don’t understand that reference.” Bucky’s smile creeps onto his face as he watches the smoke pour from your mouth.
Joint after joint is lit and burnt to the filter until there are none left. You and Bucky lay next to each other on your bed facing the ceiling and you both revel in your highs. Eyes tinted red, lazy smiles permanently etched on their faces, bodies unknowingly inching closer and closer together.
“So what was weed like back in your day?” You asked.
“Very taboo. And kinda hard to get. But I knew a coupla guys from my boxing gym that knew a guy who knew a guy. Never did it too often though, always had to be keepin’ an eye on my sisters and Steve.” Bucky responded, the tone in his voice laced with nostalgia.
“The first time I smoked it, I was fifteen,” You began after a moment of silence. “I smoked too much too quickly, threw up, and then fell asleep for a about eleven hours.”
Immediately, Bucky began cracking up, his boyish giggles growing louder and louder as you joined him.
As more stories, jokes, and laughs were shared, the high began wearing off and sleep slowly began to overtake both of your bodies. Eyes slowly closed as you both naturally scooted closer together above the comforter. This was probably the best Bucky’s ever slept.
...
Tony Stark strutted along the hallways of his compound waking up the members of his team one by one. Except Natasha. He’ll let her wake up on her own. He skips over Steve’s room, already knowing the man’s been awake since 6:00 A.M. He bears a glance at Bucky’s room, not really wanting to bother waking him up, but he does a double-take as he takes notice of Bucky’s bedroom door being ajar.
Now, why would one of the most paranoid people in the building just have his door slightly open while he’s in a vulnerable state of sleep? He wouldn’t. Tony may not care for Bucky much, for obvious reasons, but his curiosity has definitely been piqued.
Forget the briefing he had planned for this morning, where has the brooding Elsa gone?
He continues to the next door to recruit some help. He knocks on your door and waits approximately four seconds before opening the door and-
“Jesus, what are you guys, selling Pineapple Express out of this room?! It reeks in here!”
You and Bucky jolt awake and look to the source of noise. There stands Tony Stark staring down at you and Bucky Barnes intertwined like an Auntie Anne’s pretzel. His right arm is buried beneath your head and circled around your shoulders while his left is curled around your waist to bring your fronts closer together. Your hands remain tucked into his chest, the heat radiating off his body warming yours to the core. Your legs are twisted around and in between his, ankles hooked behind his calves as if your feet pulled him impossibly closer to you in your sleep. Neither of you move despite the interruption and Stark remains waiting for some sort of explanation.
“Well? You two potheads have anything to say for yourselves?” Stark awaits like a protective mother hen, thought the amusement is visible on his face.
“Want us to invite you next time?” You sarcastically reply. All you crave is to snuggle into Bucky as much as possible and fall back into a deep sleep with him.
Luckily, Tony seems to catch the hint and exits the room, not before a roll of his eyes and call out to FRIDAY to, “let him know the next time Cypress Hill decides to spend the night in his compound.”
You and Bucky remain unmoving from their position, both wondering what the other is thinking. Bucky breaks the silence.
“I don’t know about you, but, I’m mighty comfortable after what was probably the best sleep I’ve had in years, and I don’t really feel much like movin’.” He tucks you closer into him, urging you to rest your head in the crook of his neck so his head can rest on top of yours.
“Glad we’re on the same page, Snoop Dogg.” You groggily respond, wrapping your hands around Bucky’s torso to absorb as much of him as possible, eyes closing as you both drift off once again.
#clos1kwritingchallenge#oneshot#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#writing challenge#marijuana
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My thoughts and feelings on the Great British Divorce, as written on January 18th (and updated on February 19th)
I wrote a very long and detailed essay on my feelings when the Sussexes stood down and it was super cathartic. I’ve not reread it since (although I have added one final paragraph) but I am going to make you all read it...
Prince Harry announces he is dating Meghan Markle
I had Meghan Markle down with Ellie Goulding, Mollie from The Saturdays, Caroline Flack, and Jenna Coleman as famous women Harry has “dated” that would never come to anything. Then, on a completely normal day when I was at work, Harry released his statement. It was completely unprecedented. Everyone in the staffroom was talking about it, saying things like “I didn’t even know he was dating/Diana would want to see him happy/Who is she?”. And I knew they would be for keeps. This one would become Mrs Harry.
Engagement announcement
Do you want to know what my initial reaction was when the engagement was announced? Fear and worry. I was so so scared that Harry’s fiancé would be put through the same awful treatment Kate had gone through. I was also worried that Meghan would be pitted against Kate and vice versa – I hadn’t spent all those years watching people drag Kate against Diana/Sophie/Camilla/[insert female royal here] to live it again with Harry’s fiancé. But, despite my fears and the initial sinking feeling of dread, I was still excited. Apart from George’s first day at school, Harry and Meghan’s engagement announcement remains the only event with no Kate appearance that has a tag on my blog. I fell in love with the brilliant, charismatic, intelligent woman in the engagement interview. I was excited for the future.
Pre-wedding engagements
My main memory of how I felt at the time was disappointment at Meghan’s outfits. Where had my stylish young professional gone? Why was she wearing these wide-legged trousers that dragged on the floor with long coats? But I genuinely thought they both did really well. Meghan came across as personable and warm and intelligent. They were clearly in sync. They were a modern young couple and the perfect counterpart to the stability of the Cambridges.
Wedding
I was at uni when the wedding happened. I took the day off work and travelled home for one day to surprise my mum and watch the wedding with her. My auntie called me minutes before Meghan appeared to talk to me because she was watching it and she “knew” I was on my own in Bournemouth. When Meghan appeared, I literally crawled in front of the TV and sat inches from the screen so I could see her emerge in her dress in all its glory (I was disappointed, ngl). I cried during her wedding. I’d spent the morning spotting celebrities and Kate was there and the bridal party was fantastic. Meghan’s tiara shone like the jewel she was. Charles, Camilla, and Doria were literally angelic. After the wedding I went to my auntie’s house to watch the FA Cup final (as a family, we always do that and have a BBQ) and I spent all my time on my phone waiting for photos of their evening outfits. I cried again when I saw Meghan’s Stella dress. It’s one of my favourite wedding outfits of all time. I’m a super fussy bitch and I had plenty of complaints with the wedding and I have aired them before but it was a truly happy and wonderful day and I was happy and content.
Post-wedding engagements
I know I’m literally only talking about Meghan but I don’t pay attention to Harry so I barely know if he’s there or not. I think Meghan hit the ground running. She did some brilliant engagements during the time post-wedding and pre-Archie. Her patronage choices were inspired and the work she did with her patronages is some of my favourite Meghan work. Obviously, she also created the Together Cookbook, which doesn’t need going into. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Meghan would have been the Anne of this generation of royals, quietly getting the numbers and doing fantastic work. Meghan was connecting with people no one else could in a way no one had since Harry himself. She quite literally made the role her own.
Faux Pas
Meghan had teething problems but, most of the time, I put them down to cultural differences. Things like talking about abortion in Ireland – any British person knows not to do that. More importantly, it was a political statement, which is, essentially, “against the rules”. I think Meghan would have grown out of these, as she was making far less of them already, in the same way Kate, Camilla, Sophie, and Diana grew out of them. I also think the general public opinion wasn’t as positive as social media has people believe. I was talking to Cece about this but the Africa documentary went down badly. If it wasn’t for Andy’s well-timed interview, I think it would have been a much bigger deal but, as it was, it was swept under the carpet. Don’t get me wrong, I think Meghan made some incredible points in the documentary that deserved being aired BUT I never heard anyone in the real world say anything positive about those decisions. I think, during their time together, both Harry and Meghan made mistakes that warranted criticism and I don’t think they ever received that criticism because…
Press treatment of Meghan
Has every royal woman received incredibly negative headlines? Yes. Has Kate and her family been treated awfully by the press? Yes. Do I find it funny when people make comments like “look, Meghan touched her baby bump and people hate her and they loved it when Kate did it” when I had to sit through people talking about what trailer trash Kate was for touching her bump in her first two pregnancies? Yes. Was Meghan compared to Kate in the same way Kate was compared to Sophie and Sarah compared to Diana? Yes. Was Meghan’s coverage actually that different from the coverage Kate got? No. Did Meghan receive worse coverage than any other British royal? Yes. Without a doubt.
I’ve stayed away from talking about race too much. I am a white woman. I look like a “stereotypically” Jewish woman as my family is Jewish. A large proportion of my family is either from the Republic of Ireland or the Irish travelling community. I’ve seen my family be subject to abuse because of their ethnicity. My mum has scars because her house was set on fire as a child because her dad was Irish. Despite that, I have no idea what it is like to experience racism. I’ve had the most closeted white woman life when it comes to matters of race. None of the things I described was racism in the way Meghan experienced it and none of it means I am in a position where I can join in on this conversation. I have spent years learning about racism and every day I find myself coming across something that I hadn’t considered, like the idea that Meghan is a good mum for going back to work so quickly is a form of positive discrimination and we should tackle that. I genuinely don’t know how much I should get involved in these conversations but I also don’t want to add to emotional labour by continuously directing these conversations towards people of colour.
Coming from my position of privilege, Meghan received some truly awful and horrific treatment at the hands of the press and the public. She was humiliated, her family history and private life was raked over, she was blamed for war because she ate an avocado one time? I can only assume Harry is really good in bed because there is no way I would have stayed with him if I had to go through what Meghan went through. Announcing they were suing the press was still the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen though.
BRF & Meghan
The BRF could have – and should have – done more to protect Meghan from the press. However, I think it was naïve to ever assume they would. I could talk until I’m blue in the face about how it would have helped Meghan’s confidence (and the BRF’s PR) to make a statement like “The Queen and the royal family are greatly distressed at the treatment of the Duchess of Sussex…”. I could talk about how the BRF uses symbolism rather than statements and I watched you all talk about how the Queen loves Meghan because she went on the royal train and had a solo engagement with the Queen so don’t pretend for one minute that you all don’t know that. I could talk about William releasing a statement (which everyone glosses over but go off, I guess). I could talk about how, if the Queen did not release a statement, Kate couldn’t very well have gone off and released one on her own (also, how come it’s always The Queen, Charles, Will, and Kate, where is Camilla?). But there’s no point. They should have done more. It was a massive oversight not to consider how being a woman of colour would affect Meghan’s treatment after becoming a member of the firm and they had a duty to help protect her. But no one should ever have thought it would have happened. The BRF look after number 1 and that, right now, is the Queen. That’s how it has always been. They treated Meghan the same way they treat everyone who isn’t in the direct line (also Andrew but that’s Andrew). As Katie says, anything else would have blown up in Meghan’s face. If I was in charge of the BRF’s PR, I would not have advised them to say anything.
Archie
Archie is a precious angel and I refuse to hear otherwise.
Archie’s birth was poorly handled by Sara but I don’t care. It was cute. Archie’s christening was foolishly handled by the Sussexes. I also don’t massively care. It’s miniscule in comparison to the bigger fish at play. Despite that, the only people who would have cared who Archie’s godparents were, are on this site. By refusing to allow the small bit of access the public get to christenings, it annoyed people who barely even know who Archie is. And we’re still talking about it today. I said to a friend recently that most British people only care about royals when it comes to weddings, babies, and money. With a wedding in Windsor, not London, and on a Saturday (meaning no bank holiday), coupled with a messy birth announcement, no “Lindo Wing” appearance, and the godparent faux pas, they missed golden opportunities to help the public fall in love with them and their family. There’s a reason the Cambridge kids are always seen after a PR disaster.
Sussex Statement
My opinion on the statement? Massively poorly handled. I think the BRF knew the Sussexes wanted out but did not know the statement would be released. This doesn’t contradict anything anyone has said. Harry and Meghan are right to leave. Mentally, and also for their family. They will flourish outside of the confines of the BRF. I also think Harry messed up by releasing the statement when he did. By forcing the hand, the public was calling for them to lose their funding before a decision had to be made (and lo and behold, they lost their funding), rather than being able to release a full statement confirming how much money they would keep. TLDR; good idea, hope it all works out, awfully handled.
Sussex/BRF Resolution
I think it was the best possible solution. I’m a little shocked they are completely stepping down but, as time goes on, I’m not surprised. I think the Sussexes clearly expected to be more half in/half out because their website had a whole section dedicated to royal work and supporting the Queen and taxpayer funding. The website used their titles. There are still things to work out (Duchy funding? How will they repay the taxpayers? Will they go to Trooping? Will they answer letters? SussexRoyal) but I think it’s a good middle ground.
Overall thoughts
The Sussexes are right to leave. The way they left was messy af and I blame Harry for that. I don’t think Meghan was innocent in how they left but I blame Harry for being so trigger happy. They made some bad PR moves in the last few months: announcing they were suing the press (do it quietly or they’ll just come after you more), the documentary, the statement. I think the press will be after them even more now and I think it’s interesting looking at how many times we’ve seen Meghan papped in Canada this year compared to the times we saw her papped in the UK since 2017. I also think, long term, they will lose their star power and become Reese Witherspoon levels of famous. Everyone knows who she is, most people like her, she does some good philanthropic work, she gets freebies, that’s pretty much it. Meghan and Harry’s appeal (and this goes for every single royal) is in the fact they are royal. Without the connection to the BRF, they’re just rich people preaching.
I’m also very sad. I thought Meghan would come back, post maternity leave, with a new project and put everyone else to shame. I thought she would take on new patronages, do a solo overseas visit, and generally flourish as a young working mum. We will see far less of her than we thought we would. I doubt we’ll see little Archie much at all. As for Harry, I can officially say that the most amusing and upsetting thing to come out of this has been seeing good, kind, left-wing people brown nose a rich, privileged, racist, quite frankly dangerous white man because he married a good woman. I think he will struggle more out of the royal bubble than in it because he’s lost the little structure he had.
Harry was always going to leave the royal family. Meghan might have been a catalyst, but she is not the cause. There is nothing the BRF could have done – no statement – that would have stopped him. He did a whole interview about how much he hates being a royal and then said the public need royals. In his new life as a whatever he is now, my biggest worry is that he will spend more time talking publicly about issues like mental health, without understanding what he is saying. I hope I’m wrong and that he flourishes and becomes a force to be reckoned with. But, while I know Meghan will do brilliantly, I have no idea what he’ll do.
Meghan, Archie, I hope you flourish. I can’t wait to see what you do next. Harry. Sayonara, biatch.
A final update
I thought I should give my thoughts on this now – mid-February – after the dust has settled. I genuinely miss a lot of the people the Sussexes brought to the fandom. I miss planning outfits for Meg to wear to events, I miss predicting what Meghan’s next patronages might be. I miss seeing Meghan interacting with the public, because that was where she shone. We now know the Sussexes will formally split on March 31st, after a final set of engagements. I’m super looking forward to these engagements and judging the vibe from everyone there. We also know it’s likely they will have to rebrand (my bet is Sussex Foundation) and I’m assuming this rebrand will happen in April/May time, possibly around their anniversary. Honestly, I was expecting to see more of them. I was expecting more posts on their Instagram about private visits to charities. I was definitely not expecting them to jump straight to JP Morgan and start attending exclusive events. Rich people going to rich people, I guess. Despite that, Meghan and Harry could start a business selling rubber ducks and, quite frankly, it’s none of my business. If we never see them again, that’s their choice as private citizens and I have to respect that. I’m still fascinated to see how this will all turn out but they are now free to live their own lives and, because of that, I’m going to live and let live.
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if i go, i'm goin' (your love will take me there) | nora montgomery x dara ann lynch x billie dean howard
summary: not even in a hundred years, a love like Dara’s was ever seen, but those lucky enough to be the receiving end of it knew how much pureness and sincerity it held. Some of those wished, however, to have been the only end to receive that love but still they found their true home right in between her arms. And maybe in another time, another life, Dara’s love would have been all Nora’s. However, as Nora felt fuller yet lighter in the living room of her home for the past one hundred years…she found herself wishing for Billie to keep taking care of their greatest love.
words: 14,759
n/a: this is going to hurt so fucking bad, I’m already crying. The story is divided in two almost individual parts connected in the middle. It will tell the extents of Dara and Billie’s love in the beginning…and then switch to the love that was meant to be.This doesn’t mean I won’t keep writing for Nora and Dara or including Nora in other stories, but those would probably be pre-2020/2021 most of the time! I hope y'all enjoy this one, because I did a lot of research and…well, NoraDara owns my heart fully for the rest of my life.
n/a 2.0: Also, analyzing how Billie and Dara’s relationships are, we (Vivi and I) found that there were similarities between BillieAudrey and NoraDara as separate units, and since I did explore the former first a few times already, it’s time for the latter to come alive (pun intended).
n/a 3.0: I’ll be taking a break from writing for a while, so this is the last long thing I’ll be posting. I hope y’all enjoy it.
[23:35] How-t Stuff: I miss you :(
[23:38] How-t Stuff: Annie, I see you in your phone from the living :((
Dara only chuckled silently at that, amused because she could actually see Billie in the couch typing in her phone. It was one of the perks of living in a tiny apartment, even if they were separated, they could see each other from the other room just by open a door. Damien was already asleep, hugging her from behind, so she couldn’t do much sound in case she woke up.
It was easy to type a ‘hang in there honey’ and close her eyes, feeling how her headache was getting better after being able to down some food and having some painkillers along with muscle relaxant for her leg. The only thing she didn’t like, however, was feeling herself uneasy because medicines usually messed up with her body and her perception.
[23:46] How-t Stuff: This couch is so uncomfortable...why do we still have it???
[23:48] How-t Stuff: Also I found your fancy lighter in between the cushions :)
[23:50] How-t Stuff: also found your purple thong oops
She really wanted to go to sleep, but having Billie trying to be...cute? was really something else. But Dara was already falling asleep, and with only one eye open she texted her back a ‘you’ve been saying the same fr 6y, r u planning on sleepin there much’ and ‘sTOP hIDINg my underwear in places you forGet’ before switching her phone to night mode and hiding it under Billie’s pillow. Of course she was sleeping in Billie’s side and maybe she was wearing one of her pyjamas, she also missed her, but she kinda deserved it.
The memory came back to her, making Dara feel dizzy and she closed harder her eyes, trying to get it out. She wasn’t in the mood of thinking about Audrey or Danielle for that matter, even when both had kinda been the reason Billie was sleeping in the couch and she had her teen niece pressed against her back, sleeping soundly like a baby koala. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t hate any of them, in fact Dara was pretty sure she didn’t hate anyone ever in her life...not even the poor devil that assaulted her and scarred her as a teen...
[01:50] How-t Stuff: Uhm...love, beige or sky blue?
[02:10] How-t Stuff: nvm, black is prettier
[02:30] How-t Stuff has sent an image.
[02:32] How-t Stuff: we have new couch wohoo!
[03:32] How-t Stuff: i love you my dalfoddil
When Dara opened her eyes, she felt her head all clogged but at least her body didn’t hurt that bad or at all. Damien was now cuddling herself in her side of the bed, heavily asleep, so with care she tried to stand up to go get a glass of water. Her phone forgotten under the pillow, her hands went to retrieve her cane from where it was resting immediately. Oh, she wasn’t so confident today about walking, so even when she had support with one hand she still made her way slowly.
Rubbing off the sleep from her eyes, Dara looked first to where her wife had slept just to find an empty spot. But soon the toaster going off made her notice Billie, facing the kitchen counter, trying to do something in the stove. She truly looked disheveled, more than usual upon waking up, and a soft pang of guilt rang through Dara's body.
"Are you making tea?" when Billie turned around, Dara was leaning on her cane and looking shyly at her, which made her change her whole wrecked expression to one much softer.
"And toasts, I remembered your mother gave us blackberry jam not long ago and I thought, hell, why not?" she laughed a bit nervously before leaning in the counter to wait for the water to start to boil in the little old pot that's been around since day one. "Is the kid up?"
Dara shook her head slightly and then went to Billie in automatic, pressing her lips together in a chaste kiss meant to be longer than that, but the older medium complied with a soft grin. She already knew this little start of the day meant the world to her wife so Billie wasn't that worried about the 'couch arrest'. However they couldn't say much more because a sleepy Damien made her way to where her aunts were, getting breakfast done, and they were moved to another rhythm of life.
It was easy for Dara to shift in between being her private persona and the one she usually presented to her family, and Billie noticed that right away. When they were at home, the two of them alone, her shoulders relaxed more and the everlasting smile dropped for a slight smirk that accompanied her tired eyes. It was a homie view, yet it made Billie’s heart roar with an overprotectiveness that was familiar at this point of her life. Mostly because yesterday was the first time in a while that she realized how tired her wife was, mostly because if there was something she hated with her dear life was to watch Dara like that and notice too late to fix it.
Breakfast moved in another light for sure, Billie still getting used to the presence of Dara’s nieces and nephews. Damien, as much as she had her doubts about her and resented her for the time being, was very polite and it showed how Danielle’s antics had rubbed off in her daughter. Billie still didn’t know the whole story with Dara’s twin cousins, but maybe it was time to start digging in what was unknown waters for so long.
But then, Dara did something that surprised Billie a lot to be honest.
“Not even when Eva pulled almost the same crap to Deirdre’s new husband I let it slip, so missy,” Dara started to say, holding the cup of tea to her lips to take a sip without caring it was still pretty much hot. “Why did you do that? Were you out of your damn mind?”
“I only...I don’t know auntie,” Damien’s voice was really tiny again and Billie put down her toast, her appetite dropping. “At first it was...fun, I guess? But then I just got too into it and after dad...well, I guess I didn’t want her to suffer...but I was stupid and hurt mamon and Audrey because of it, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you truly were and are,” Dara pulled back her hair with a hand, letting out a tired sigh. Billie still was pretty much blind to who the father of this kid was or why he wasn’t around. “Audrey is totally not like your father, I can assure you that being a hundred percent sure, and I get that you want to protect your mother but you should give her some credit dear,” her voice was calm but the way she was tapping with her free hand the counter, after too many years, it told she was in need of a cigarette. “She knows how to protect herself very well, she knows how to protect you very well. Do you think she would have let Audrey come into your lives if she wasn’t sure of it, mhm?”
And at that, not even Billie had the guts to say something, seeing how Dara was still very serious even when her voice was in her always calm tone. She had that ability, to remain calm despite of everything, and after being together for a decade already she could easily pick up that she inherited that capacity from her mother. Dara’s mom was able to handle all of them with a mere look or a few words, even Billie, and that was quite scary. Damien looked down to her cup of tea and she shook her head briefly, making Dara to click her tongue.
“Exactly,” she finished her tea and stood up, taking a moment too long to actually move that made Billie worry, to go get something from one of the cupboards. “Now I hope you learn something from this. Don’t make it harder for your mother, you hear me? If something’s wrong, tell her, and if you don’t want to then call me...or did you replaced me as your favourite aunt? I knew Danna was right around the corner to take my crown.”
It was then when Billie worried more, not because Damien quickly went to deny that and made Dara fake she was affected so she would hug her, but because she caught this strange shadow hovering over her wife. Usually it wasn’t like that, her white light giving some kind of protection even from herself, but as Billie tried to finish her breakfast in silence she took her time to try and discern what Dara was feeling at the moment.
As they kept moving through the morning, taking in count it was early and Danielle and Audrey didn’t call yet, Billie thought it was always hard to actually feel what her wife was feeling. She was good at reading people, something she was proud of indeed, but Dara presented her as a challenge.
However, after two hours Billie just gave up for the time being. She would have to wait until they were alone again in the quietness of their home to directly ask, maybe over some take out from that place her wife loved so much. But when Danielle and Audrey finally showed up in their door, both way more relaxed and apparently happier, something came back to Billie’s mind. As they were exchanging some words with the other couple, Billie remembered how Dara had defended Audrey in such effortless way that surprised her and, by the time their home was only them again (plans for lunch already arranged four hours later), she felt it was the right time to ask.
Overnight, alone cuddling one of Dara’s cushions in their old couch, she kept replying the events of the day in a very vivid way. Billie knew she had no right to yell at Dara, even when she was really angry with the situation, but the way she was handling things felt off putting to her for some reason. And that’s why she was surprised when Dara kinda defended Audrey, because at the time in her furious mind she truly thought her wife hated her best friend. Well, hate was a strong word, but more like...like she was putting up with Audrey at this point just because of her.
“Baby?” Billie felt a strange strangled sensation when she called out for Dara, who was making her way back to their bedroom to pick up her phone. “Can I ask you something?” Dara stopped and looked back at her, curiosity peeking out from her eyes, tilting her head in that innocent way she always had to let her know she had her full attention. “Do you...do you like Audrey?”
It was then that the silence hit Billie like a wall made of ice.
She saw how Dara squinted her eyes a bit, trying to discern what her wife was talking about, her mouth a bit agape while the silence settled in between them. But what made Billie take a step back, was how Dara moved her jaw to the left a bit before closing her mouth and biting her lower lip while considering her next words. Billie didn’t want to push, but now she was feeling how the coldness of the room was getting more intense as her wife’s feelings finally reached her. Having her cane tightly gripped in her dominant hand, Dara sighed really deep this time as the shadow floating over her grew.
“Are you serious, Billie?” Billie doubted for a second if she ever heard Dara’s voice sounding like that. “Really, I want to know if you’re pulling my leg or not.”
“Yes, I’m being serious,” oh Billie regretted that as soon as it left her mouth, but a tiny bit of the annoyance of yesterday was starting to show up for some reason. “Sometimes it feels you put up with her just because of me, Ann-”
“Don’t you dare ‘Annie’ at me right now,” Billie saw the shadow closing around Dara and then her eyes locked with hers, shining with the anger she was feeling and making her not notice the panic laced in her voice. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
When those words left her mouth, Dara felt her whole world was crumbling faster than she thought it would. As if the massive earthquake she was holding up finally managed to open the crack that it took Dara five years to close, making all the pent up things start to flood the last bits of calmness she had. She felt breathless right away, and so fucking tired that she had to close her eyes and rub her temple with her free hand.
“I love you for over a million, billion, things Billie, but before you open your mouth to say something so...genuinely stupid, stop for a second and think about it once or twice,” Dara opened her eyes, looking at how taken aback was her wife, but in that moment she didn’t care. “Think about how we’ve been together for the last ten years and think about how I am around people I don’t like,” she felt her heart hammering in her chest and her whole body aching for the outburst. “Do you think I would’ve ever let her come into our lives if I didn’t like her, ah?” the question resonated through the silent living room in a weird uneasy way. “Do you ever think I would’ve let her go down on you or me if I didn’t?” a nervous laugh broke free from her chest at that, the hand that wasn’t in her cane going to put a lock of hair behind her ear. “Do you ever think that, if I didn’t like her, I would had gone yesterday night with you to help her? If I didn’t like her a single damned bit, do you think we would be here in this exact fucking moment having this fucking conversation?”
The room was feeling too hot for Dara at that moment, feeling her heart beating loudly in the back of her head and in her throat, making her feel she was about to burst into tears if she kept talking. Billie was pale, standing there in such weird silence, but any drop of self control she had was damned by now and Dara could see it because the hand that Billie wasn’t using to support herself in the counter was trembling a bit.
“I do get that what she went through was horrible and traumatic, I get that she’s your best friend and you love her a lot...” she truly felt like she was pushing the words out of her tired mind, all the tears she was holding back. “...but I was there for her too, many, many times. Most of them when you were away and she came home looking for you. If I didn’t like her, I would have shushed her the fuck away but I didn’t. So don’t ask me again if I like her, because it’s one of the most unfair things you ever did to me,” and through all the red that Dara was seeing in the moment, she managed to see how Billie was approaching her which only made her tears to push harder. “Do I like her? Of course I do, for God’s sake. I still have a heart inside, luckily, as much as y’all seem to forget,” and when she chuckled darkly, her tears finally started to run down her cheeks, as if they were burning their way down. “So there you have your fucking answer, are you happy?”
Dara felt like something finally broke inside her, gripping with both hands her cane to not fall to the ground when she felt her knees grow weak. And it hurt so bad? it burnt and it made her feel like there’s not enough air in the house for her to breath. She was truly tired at this point of her life, tired of the rest not being able to see she was breaking too under the weight of all the things happening. She didn’t considered herself as someone jealous, she really wasn’t, but many times Dara had felt that Billie chose Audrey over her.
After all what she had done for the actress, all the sleepless nights, all the comfort words, all the tiny little pieces of her that she left for Audrey to take in order to heal; that Billie decided to ask her that as if she wasn’t right by her side doing it...well, it started to hurt more than she could handle. Dara was always so sure of Billie’s love for her, waited for her to finally say that she loved her back, waited for her to finally be comfortable around her...but sometimes, behind all that confidence Dara had, a tiny bit of doubt had started to grow in its own corner.
A corner that got bigger when Billie stopped dead in her tracks again, not getting to reach her.
Billie didn't stop, however, because she didn't want to reach Dara. In fact, her whole body wanted to be wrapped around the trembling figure of her wife, sobbing in such heartbreaking way, to provide her of all the endless love she had for her...but she couldn't deny that hearing the truth being spitted out of her beautiful lips had left her speechless.
She was used to let her thoughts flow freely, most of the time taking advantage of being able to sense other emotions, to be blunt and also stating them flatly without much trouble. But sometimes, the times where people weren't taken aback due to her usual brassiness, Billie found herself saying things people wasn't expecting to ever deal with or were remotely prepared to do so. In this case, Dara wasn't ready at all to receive that question, and Billie visibly could tell but...well, she decide to push her in that direction anyway and now not only she was speechless but she felt devastated.
Devastated because the person she cared the most in this world was breaking in front of her, showing how small and fragile was in reality. Devastated because she created the situation; devastated because the only thing she did was to finally close the gap separating them to take Dara's hands in her own, making the cane fall to the ground with a muffled sound upon hitting the slim carpet of the living room. Her chest tightened when her wife still didn't move, crying her eyes out in between quiet sobs that resonated through her whole body, and she felt even worse because she wasn't brave enough to look at her directly, focusing in their hands instead.
"I'm sorry," the air in her lungs hurt like Hell itself when Billie managed to say something, Dara squeezing her hands in response. "I'm sorry I asked that, I...I didn't...please love..." please, let me fix this, tell me, help me.
"No, I'm the one being sorry for taking this all out on you," and Billie's heart hurt even more when she caught the defeat showing in Dara's eyes when she looked briefly at her, darkly chuckling again when she raised her arm to dry her tears with her sleeve without breaking the contact, her face scrunching ever so softly to try stop her tears. "I really shouldn't have…"
"No, hey, don't do that," panic overflown all over Billie, her hands now cuping Dara's face to have her closer, thumbs wiping hot tears and palms feeling the heat in her cheeks. She was able to finally look into her eyes, at least when her wife wasn't pressing her eyelids together harder to stop crying. "You have nothing to be sorry about, you were in your right to call my bullshit out."
"It's just...why did you ask me that Billie? I don't understand," Dara sniffed, trying to steady her voice but making her next sob to come out as a strangled whine. "Four years being with Audrey before we married and now you ask me if I like her? Really?"
It's then when Billie pulled her wife close, hiding her head in the hollow of her neck even when her wife was a few inches taller than her and pressing her lips to the crown of her head to hide the giant knot she had herself in her throat. Billie wasn't ready to admit the next answer, but because she wasn't ready it was what she needed to say in order to make things even. Billie's chest felt tight and it hurt so bad right now that she was holding Dara so close? Feeling her trembling and sobbing and grasping to her sweater - Dara's, because Billie stole it six years ago from her old closet at Dara's parents' and to this day it's her go-to comfort clothes when she’s at home - as if she was the only thing she needed to be there in that moment.
"I know… I only asked because…" she couldn't help but gulp in order to continue and her hand went to brush Dara's hair out of her face. "...because if you didn't like her, I'd have try to see her less.'
Billie was scared of what it came out of her mouth, and also because she could only hear her heart hammering against her ribcage along Dara's sobs in her neck. She felt the wetness of her tears in her skin, starting to get a bit sticky because they were drying slowly, but she didn't mind at all, too worried in securing her wife between her arms and starting to caress her arm and cheek with care. Her thumb was trying to both caress her warm skin and wipe the non-stop flow of tears, and Billie thought that’s what was actually helping Dara to start to calm down.
"Even if I did, I couldn't do that to you Bills," the whispered statement, Dara's lips so close to her pulse point that she felt how they moved and brushed ever so soft there, made Billie feel like all the fear she was holding in her chest disappeared. "I know how much you love her, how important is for you...and you know that I'm not a heartless bitch."
Even when is a joke that she usually resorts to, Billie still didn't like when Dara called herself those kind of things.
"But if you wanted me to, I would have done it," Billie felt her chest less tight for sure but she needed to get this out of her already because Dara deserved to hear it. "I would do anything for you because you are the most important person in my life, Annie, and that's a rock fact."
The tiny joke at the end made Dara chuckle cutely - and God that it felt good hearing her do that even with the runny nose and the cough that followed -, only because it was a recurring pun she used and Billie did it out of habit at times too, before she finally used her arms to wrap Billie in them by her waist and press it against her body, getting comfortable in the hug they pulled each other into. At that, Billie finally noticed how the shadow let go of her wife and it was like everything was getting back to usual little by little.
It felt even better when Dara finally stopped hiding in her neck, without pulling away from the hug, and shook her head while closing her redden eyes from crying. But for some reason she didn't look that tired anymore, her features growing softer each second that it passed. Billie grew softer too and brought up her sleeve, after pulling it a bit with her fingers, so she could clean better Dara's face with care. When she opened her eyes, Billie knew her girl was getting back to her slowly but surely, and she shook her head even more slow.
"I love you Bills, and I love her, like her too...I won't ever make you leave behind your best friend," there's only love in her eyes, mixed with that warmth that always cling in Billie's bones in such comforting way that the only thing she could do is to fold her hands in the small of Dara's back and start rubbing tiny circles with her thumbs there. "So no more of that, okay…?"
The right thing for Billie to do in that moment was nodding in agreement, before leaning in to capture her wife's lips with hers in one of those slow kisses they both were suckers for. It felt like Heaven brought to Earth only for Billie to enjoy and drown in it. A bit salty maybe because of the spilled tears, but it soon felt sweet. Being so close made Billie to start pepper many more kisses all over Dara's face, always a bit slower as the woman she loved started to relax and melt in her arms.
"I love you Annie," she whispered after placing a kiss in that soft spot Dara had under her ear before moving to kiss her lips once again. "I love you," now it felt so natural to say it, mumbled against a new kiss and taking as a reward another cute giggle from her wife. "Can I take you to bed or I'm still on couch arrest…?"
Oh to hear Dara's little laugh after another kiss was an absolute bliss. Billie could only wrap her arms better and lower, lifting her slightly and gaining a low hiss because of that. For a second her haze broke, worried about it, and her eyes looked out for the discomfort Dara seemed to have, but she was kissed again before manage to do so.
"You totally still are...but let's make an exception," and the soft static Billie felt in her skin when she was with Dara appeared again, making her sweetly go back to loving her wife and start to walk in between kisses and laughs back to their bedroom.
Two hours cuddling, kissing and whispering sweet nothings to each other was what they both needed. Not only because yesterday was a total mess, but because they've been apart three days and a few more this month. There in their quietness, they managed to talk a bit more too about daily stuff they've missed when they were apart.
Billie apologized yet again because she didn’t notice Dara’s old injury was acting up, per example, and offered to help applying some muscle soothing cream. Dara, once she was feeling a bit better and after they decided to take a well deserved shower, took in her hands the task of redoing Billie’s nails and they spent a good chunk playfully fighting over the best color - and in the end, they agreed for some nude color for Billie and Dara fixed hers in black. How Billie took to herself kissing Dara in different ways she knew the woman loved; how Dara started to rant about the last messes at work and both cussed heavily, because they were like that; how the blonde ran her fingers in soft caresses over every tattoo her wife had…
They didn’t leave the bed until it was time to actually meet up for lunch with Audrey and Danielle, purely just enjoying each other and both feeling so much better by the time Billie sat up in bed to watch her wife go through their wardrobe. Sometimes it was nice to let Dara pick their clothes for the day, mostly because it meant a good change for their usual choices.
Billie ended up getting a flowery high waisted skirt that fell loose to her knees, and her favourite peach blouse that she didn’t know how it survived ten years at this point but she wasn’t going to complain. For Dara was that one amber blouse Billie loved the most in her, the one that brought up her tanned skin, along her favourite dark pants that she knew drove Billie utterly insane and making her chuckle a ‘such a tease, aren’t you’ while Dara was getting her rings and usual jewelry on.
Those times were intimate and Billie cherished them a lot, because she never thought she would get them one day.
Hand in hand, both made their way out of the apartment not long after, and it took Billie the whole ride to get her body used again to Dara’s driving. It wasn’t that she forgot how her wife was, but heck that having others drive her here and there or even drive herself was always a whole different experience.
But there was a tiny satisfaction in watching Dara come out of the car with this glow around her that made her so different from any other person Billie met, when they pulled over at where they were having lunch that she always liked to indulge in. It made her feel important, it made her focus to be all over her wife, yet it made her feel down on Earth when they started to walk towards the terrace.
Billie thought that what she loved the most about Dara was how she was capable, with her whole demeanour and way of caring about her, of making her feel she was living in this reality. They both knew very well that there were times in which fame and her powers got too into Billie’s head, making her feel like she was just a passing soul through life instead of an actual human being. Having Dara as a constant in her life, one that she didn’t want to ever part ways with, helped her the most. And, of course, she wanted to be better than she was to her and show Dara that she had her all for herself, because God, them and both Audrey and Nora knew that Billie many times did things that didn’t demonstrate how important her wife was for her.
But Dara was still there, despite everything.
“Sweet baby Jesus, I can’t believe we are here earlier than them,” Dara’s voice brought Billie down to Earth from her thoughts. “How can two of the most punctual people in the universe not even be five minutes early to a date?”
“Cut them some slack, Dalfoddil,” Billie laughed at the fake afflicted tone in Dara’s voice, sitting by her side to be closer to her. “I bet you thirty it was only traffic, or that they forgot something at home.”
“I bet you thirty and that new game I want that they are late because of sex, Howt Stuff,” Dara mumbled before pressing her lips against Billie’s, which she eagerly took advantage of and snuck an arm behind Dara’s lower back to be even closer. “Are we bringing the bad boys before dessert now?”
“I can’t help it, baby, don’t mind me today...but we have a deal,” Billie looked at her feeling how her chest was about to burst of all the love she had for her. When Dara let herself be cuddled there in the seat, resting her head in Billie’s shoulder, she pressed a new kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Billie Dean.”
And upon hearing that coming from Dara’s pretty lips, after the millionth or billionth time, Billie knew today was going to be a good day.
When Audrey finally arrived ten minutes later, Danielle on her phone talking with a client and relieved Damien because her mother didn’t drive walking behind her, Billie had Dara still cuddled in her side as they were exchanging sweet nothings and drinking wine and soda respectively - Dara not being in the mood of drinking today. And when they settled, Audrey couldn’t help but make a little gesture with her eyebrows, silently asking Billie ‘everything okay?’ while the cousins were busy with the waiter. Her only response was a quick wink and seeing how Billie’s left hand was caressing Dara’s back up and down with care, earning her a new peck after Dara’s attention went back to her.
More than okay.
For Audrey, that was enough response. They had known each other for almost five years already, sharing more than just a friendship along the way, so she knew right away that the other couple was having one of those ‘reconciliation’ days. Not that they ever broke up, as far as Audrey knew, but sometimes they behaved like they did and were back together and stronger than ever. Well, stronger than they already were, because she never met a couple like them. They seemed to gravitate around each other in a way she wished to understand and for Audrey, she always saw that being with Dara made Billie the happiest.
Looking at Danielle for a second, when the other two were distracted talking with Damien - or more Dara talking with their niece while Billie simply listened, arm over her shoulders and glass of wine in the other hand -, Audrey discerned that her girlfriend was a bit confused yet her light brown eyes were full of tenderness. Their hands met under the table and, after a light squeeze, she earnt a peck of her own that made her contently smile.
Content smile that disappeared when Dara asked right away why they were late, once Damien had to go to the restroom, and was replaced by Audrey’s face lightening up like a Christmas light because bingo they had a shower quickie that took them a bit longer than intended.
“Oh, come on, you placed a bet and all,” Dara couldn’t help but laugh out loud when Audrey said that, rightfully offended, upon seeing Billie taking out a few bills from her purse to give them to her. “Why do you two always have bets for everything?”
“Because it’s fun and I always win,” Danielle, still with her face red as a tomato, chuckled at how happy and relaxed Dara was. “You also played bets with us, darling, don’t you play innocent now.”
“Yeah but after losing a hundred dollars to you in one go, I decided to quit altogether,” at that Billie laughed, the memory of about what they bet that time coming to her mind, because Audrey was just exasperated. “How do you even do it?”
It was time for Dara to laugh. She never did much, to begin with, it was just her intuition and one of many leaps of faith she was used to take. That was her secret, not expecting the result and just go for it.
After that and a very scandalized Danielle because ‘why would you even do that’ when Dara answered a happy ‘I’m a lucky bitch, what else can I do?’, having promised to her that one day they would tell her, a day in which everyone was wasted and with no children around; Dara managed to think that everything was finally settling again.
It was a nice feeling, because those times where Billie and her got into a discussion took a too heavy toll on her. She never liked getting into arguments to begin with, but having them with Billie was the worst thing ever because it meant for her that communication had failed. Even in the past, they only had a couple serious arguments in between all the playful bickering and the eventual ‘couch arrest’ because one of them took it a bit too far, nothing really serious taking in count the other went to retrieve the part in arrest after a few hours or the next morning. She loved how afterwards Billie got softer, more loving and willing to show her feelings, and she basically couldn’t say no to her in those times.
She also loved to be able to show it to the rest, not because she wanted to brag about, but because she had been waiting for too long to do it completely freely.
When Audrey took her hand with care over the table and smiled widely, full knowing how much she was enjoying having Billie like that, Dara’s heart grew three sizes and for a second she forgot about how a question regarding the actress was what was behind of it all. Dara didn’t want to dwell on that anymore, because now everything was in the open to Billie understand her position and for her to understand from where Billie’s doubts were coming from.
So the next thing she did after the tiny exchange of smiles with Audrey was to actually check her phone after twelve hours without doing it.
“Billie, did you buy a new couch?” Dara had to bite her tongue to not curse like a sailor, because really what the fuck, and Billie looked at her from behind her third glass of wine like ‘oh snap, she finally saw it’.
“You said I’ve been six years complaining about it,” Billie whined back, trying to not look at her wife because Dara was digging holes in her skull just by how she was looking at her. “So yesterday night I just ordered a new one, easy as pie.”
“And didn’t you think about measuring our living room before to see if it actually fits?” Dara tapped at the screenshot to see it better. “God, this is massive, what in th-”
But before she could keep at it, feeling how Billie’s hand was now placed in her thigh and rubbing soft circles there to avoid getting murdered in her sleep, her screen changed to display someone was calling. It took her a second to read the caller id and then all the happiness and all the warmth, dropped to her feet.
“I’ll kick your ass later,” Dara mumbled, taking advantage of Billie not looking at what she was doing with her phone, before standing up to go pick up the call. “Don’t you think I’m gonna forget about it.”
When she was at enough distance to not be heard, Dara pressed the phone to her ear, her heart beating loudly in her throat.
If Constance was calling her directly, and not Billie, it wasn’t a good signal.
“Hi Constance, how are you?” she started before the woman in the other side of the line talked, trying to not sound nervous. It didn’t help either that Dara had some sick respect for her. “Older than last time, kid, that for sure,” she replied darkly but with a tone that gave away she was distracted. “Yeah, right, do you want to talk with Billi-” it was the easiest way to make Constance Langdon talk, bringing up her wife because both had a different and stronger bond. “If I wanted to talk with Billie Dean, I would have called her, don’t you think?” and Dara’s silence invited her to keep talking. “Anyway, I was calling because miss Montgomery’s been acting weird,” Constance didn’t like Nora for the mere fact that she was the actual owner of the house and if she ever had to refer to her, it always came from a polite sarcasm. “She’s been in the front yard, sitting there all alone. Vivien and Violet tried to make her come in, they are still there with her in fact. I’m only calling because I have a bad feeling about this,” and Dara’s heart dropped even lower than all the good feelings already dropped. “Did she said something at all? Did you actually talked to her?” She had to ask because Nora wasn’t one to go out of the house on her own volition, only coming out on Halloween or the couple times they managed to take her to the backyard. “She asked for you, actually. And it scared the shit outta me that she let me see her in fact.” Oh yeah, Nora wasn’t a big fan of Constance neither, and that was what made everything more worrisome. Dara rubbed her neck, trying to stay calm, before giving an answer. “...I’ll be there in twenty.”
She hanged up without saying anything else, and turned around to go back to the table. Desserts were already there and the adults were laughing while Damien seemed embarrassed for some reason that escaped her knowledge.
However, Dara’s mind was racing in another line, thinking about how she needed to get to Nora as soon as possible.
This was when her secret card was played and also why she didn’t ever found herself asking Billie almost the same question she did. Dara never got in her enough courage to ask Billie if she cared, not loved or liked, but truly cared about the ghost anymore. Mostly because she knew the answer: Nora wasn’t actually there, she couldn’t provide of the warmth, she couldn’t change, she couldn’t grow, she couldn’t even leave the place she was confined to. It pained her, it pained her for the last four years, to know that everything had come to an end.
As much as Billie played it dumb, she had noticed how Nora’s wounds had closed already and that made her feel wary. She loved how Nora wasn’t a crying wreck anymore, how her true persona came out more often than not instead of the one generated by the trauma, but those times it made Dara feel how she was lighter in her arms and even one time she felt her fingers pass through her arm as if Nora was a mere smoke curtain.
“Everything okay Annie?” Billie’s voice was as worried as the glint in her eyes, taking in count Dara was spacing out just in front of them looking at her phone.
“It was Constance, there’ve been some problem at the house and wanted me to check into it,” Dara pushed herself to act more relaxed, as if it wasn’t something really important, and Billie frowned to that. “You know her, always getting worried the house is gonna burn down or something.”
“Let’s go then baby,” was Billie immediate response, moving to stand up, but Dara put a hand on her shoulder and leant enough to kiss her cheek briefly.
“Don’t worry sugar, I got it, okay? Just enjoy the rest of the afternoon,” Chuckling, Dara retrieved her bag and called for the waitress, signaling to her dessert. “Can you put me this for take out? Thank you,” her eyes went then to Billie again, smiling softly, and then to Audrey, Danielle and Damien. “You three take care of her while I’m gone, I’ll be chopping heads off if one hair is out of place,” she laughed with her joke and Danielle only rolled her eyes a bit.
“Actually Audrey has to be the one doing that, I have to go get some last minute work done this afternoon,” Dara looked with curiosity to her cousin and she shrugged a bit. “I’m taking Dada with me, so I think these two will be alone.”
It was then when Billie looked at Dara with some kind of uncertainty in her eyes, taking her hand in hers, as if asking if she really got it under control. Dara felt moved for some reason, taking in count almost nine years ago she was the one trying to stop Billie from going into that house all alone. But she only leant over her again, this time kissing her wife fully on the lips while her free hand grabbed her cane, ending the soft affectionate move with a mere brush of noses.
“Take care, okay? I love you,” Billie mumbled, placing her hand in Dara’s thigh for a second. “Call me if it gets too bad, promise it.”
And to that Dara, already swooning too much, kissed her again to seal that promise.
Audrey got a big goodbye kiss on the cheek, as usual, while Danielle was hugged from behind and Damien got a kiss on top of her hair and, like that, Dara was making her way to her car with a brownie for take out and all the worries about Nora bottled inside.
While driving, Dara tried to come up with a line of act. Would be Nora altered? Would she need to do an intervention? Would she have to get help from the other ghosts in the house? The only ones she manage to...befriend were the Harmon women and, stil, she wasn’t sure if Moira actually liked her taking in count the first time they saw each other...well, Dara didn’t see her in her true form right away. Hayden at times, and it was always weird. And in a very good day, specially good even, Nora’s husband exchanged some words with her.
That was maybe the weirdest part of it all, that Charles had seen her close enough to actually talk to her, because when Billie had tried to contact him - the couple few times for her research - he didn’t make a single sound.
When Dara pulled over, her head was full of all the things that could go wrong with Nora or any of the other ghosts in the house. If she had any energy back during the morning, it all went away in the fifteen minute ride to the house, making her feel as she was feeling all those days Billie was away.
Tiresome, too tiresome.
But when she crossed the fence, she fell in the spell the house always had around. Dara’s eyes went first around the front yard, taking in count every little thing she had done to keep the abandonment at bay. The lawn was a bit wet, the rose bushes as well and then Vivien was squat down in front of Nora, with Violet sitting by her side and taking her hand.
Dara walked slowly towards them, her cane tapping in the stones of the tiny path, feeling heavy with each step but getting confident as she went further and further. Vivien saw her first, then Violet, and both stood up giving Dara a pitiful and desperate look. Once they were gone, it was time for Dara to get near Nora finally, and she could only get her eyes on her back and her whole aura.
For Dara, Nora glowed that day in a different light.
“What’s the prettiest gal around doing here all alone?” she raised her voice, with enough sweetness and tenderness to sweeten up Nora’s mood.
“Waiting for the sun to come to me, sweetie pie,” for Nora, she was always something along ‘sweet’, because she couldn’t see her as anything else. “Did you see the rosebuds? They’re so lovely right now...”
Nora felt how Dara, her sweet Dally, kneeled with a bit of trouble behind her, soon getting the mint scent of her shampoo filling her whole. She could smell a hint of cigarette, Billie Dean’s perfume and the earthy scent that she came to associate with the woman that was hugging her from behind. Leaning back in the embrace, Nora lifted her hand to meet Dara’s left cheek still without looking at her, indulging in how she was resting her chin in her shoulder and pressing a light kiss in her jaw before looking at the bush with her.
“Not as lovely as you,” Nora chuckled at the flattery, knowing Dara didn’t lie when she said that. “Were you feeling better that you decided to come out?”
“Not really, but I felt like getting some watering done, can you believe it? Me, wanting to do such thing,” that drew a low laugh from both, making Dara tighten her hug. Nora went to put her hand over Dara’s, tracing her rings as usual to calm herself...even when she felt calm enough that day. “My mother would had been laughing at me for years if she ever came to know.”
“Then we are lucky she would never do,” Nora closed her eyes, feeling the warmth spreading in her chest. “Why don’t we move inside, darling? I brought with me some chocolate cake and we can make some tea, maybe tell me how was your day? I’m yours all noon.”
All mine. It rolled even more sweet in her tongue for the few seconds Nora took to react. God, she wished that was the whole and only truth in the world. She complied to that, however, whispering barely an ‘of course’ before helping Dara to stand up again. Nora waited then for Dara to retrieve the box with the cake at the porch stairs, feeling all the warmth in her body to gather where her heart was supposed to be, and once she was again by her side she quickly linked their arms to walk side by side inside.
Nora could feel the rest in the house withdraw to their usual accommodations, they always did that when she was wandering around, and she thanked them all inside because that’s everything she wanted right now.
Chattering idly about banal things, they made their way to the kitchen that looked much better without all the things Vivien had equipped it with when they moved back in two thousand eleven. Both Billie and Dara had spent their good money in remodeling the place, little by little, so it was more like it was used to be than what years and years of different owners made it to be. It made Nora feel better for sure, less confused and out of place, because as much as she made Charles’ life a living Hell when they were alive...she was still very much thankful to him for building the place, and sorry at times for being like that.
That much she could say, at least, because she didn’t ever love him.
Because ‘love’ was what she felt for the first time when, one night, she decided to come out of the basement, encountering a curious woman in their backyard. Same woman that was now with her back facing her, humming along a song while setting up the kettle over the stove. How curious it was that these days she could recall things like that, but she gladly took it in because it made her feel content.
She picked at the cake with the plastic spoon, knowing she didn’t need to actually eat, but indulging because Dara had brought it. In her days, things like that weren’t usual at all, so it was kind of a delight to be able to share this even when she couldn’t feel much of it aside of the taste before it went away.
However, her focus changed when Dara finally set their cups of tea in the counter and sat close to her, letting the kettle close in case they wanted more. Fishing her phone - and this time Nora didn’t make a face! - from her pocket, Dara put it there too before turning all her attention to her. It was easy to notice that for Nora, because her sweetheart always spread her legs a bit, letting enough space in case she wanted to come even closer, and had her left hand resting in the back of Nora’s tall chair.
“Dally, are you okay?” was the first thing she asked, watching how the lovely features of her darling were filled with dread even when her smile was on. She could see the light dark circles under her eyes behind the make-up and how she bit her lip every few minutes.
“Yeah darling, why wouldn’t I?” she laughed in response, moving her hand to accommodate Nora’s shawl better.
“You look tired, spent even,” Nora wasn’t the best at being subtle, so she preferred to be direct. “Do I have to call Billie Dean and put her arse into place? I swear if she’s treating yo-”
“Everything is fine Nora, don’t worry,” Dara laced her fingers with Nora’s then, making her feel that calmness that she loved about the woman in front of her. “My leg has been acting up for a few days already and work has been...awful, so I couldn’t rest much. Also how can it be Billie’s fault when she barely got home yesterday? Give her some rest.”
No, I can’t give her some rest. Nora thought squeezing Dara’s hand a bit in hers. Not when she’s in charge of giving you all our love. But she nodded, agreeing to not put in place the other socialité, because if Dara asked her to do something she would do it right away. It visibly calmed her having Nora to agree, though, and it was a view to sore eyes having her smiling in that way her dimples showed up.
"Then tell me, who do I have to terrorize the next time the house let me go out," Nora asked, not wanting to break the contact, while tracing Dara's knuckles with her thumb. "You know I can get quite scary."
"I think at this rate I'll be quitting before Halloween," Dara laughed at that, the stress lacing in her words. "But I don't want to talk about work, I'd prefer to talk about what are we doing this year in your day off, do you want to go to the movies? Or maybe this year you want to go to the beach? We can even go home and relax there, you name it, you have it."
Home. The word tasted sweet in her tongue again, and Nora really wished that apartment to be their home...or well, even the house they were in right now. It didn't matter for her to be honest, because anywhere Dara was, for Nora was already home.
And while they started to talk about it, all the possibilities they had to fulfill in twenty four hours, Nora's mind started to wander in all those things she usually thought when she was alone.
At times, Nora pictured Dara in the time she was alive. Oh, she would totally be a charmer, one of those flappers that Nora’s mother hated so much and made sure she wasn’t even close to by making her attend parties full of ‘proper’ ladies and gentlemen alike. But she knew that Dara would manage to sneak in, her manners blending perfectly and ‘innocently’ hanging around her, sharing with Nora stories about dancing freely along the music that was played in ballrooms and about a house in the coast where they could do whatever they wanted.
Not only that would made Nora fall in love with the concept of freedom, but also with the concept that maybe her future wasn’t tied to a man nor to a child of her own...nor even tied to the status and the money. At first lying about the nature of their hangs out would be almost the rule, but then eventually moving together because ‘they liked to be around each other too much’, and then the rumors would start of course. But Nora found herself not caring at all, because as long as she was by Dara’s side that's all that mattered to her.
Cake and tea gone, Nora listened to something Dara was telling her with passion, barely asking for permission to lit up the cigarette she had been rolling while talking, before keep with the topic. Of course Dara would smoke back in the twenties too, but Nora imagined her smoking cigarrillos more than the regular or even smoking pipe, the room note hanging wonderfully in her clothes and Nora imagined herself wrapped in one of Dara’s shirts, getting comfort from that solely when she was out of the house.
“I think I’ve never seen you in this dress,” Dara’s fingers brought her back to the present when they fixed the white shawl, giving her a soft caress in her chin. “It suits you, brings your eyes and lips out.”
“You’re terrible,” In that moment, and back in her time, she blushed as fiercely as she allowed herself, her hand going quickly to shush Dara. “I had it since forever, it’s one of my favourites! I wore it before.”
“Okay, okay,” Dara chuckled again, taking a drag and letting the smoke come out of her nose and mouth in a swift move. “Sorry, these days my mind isn’t that sharp...still, you truly look beautiful Nora.”
You had nothing to be sorry for. Nora thought while finally giving in and getting her chair closer to Dara, which only looked at her warmly before leaning to kiss her temple and place her right arm over Nora’s lap, resting her hand in her hip. She missed the days they could kiss openly, mostly because she found herself comfortable being held by her and pampered in love just like that, but she understood that now things had changed.
Damned you, Billie Dean, seven times damned. Nora couldn’t blame her, indeed, she felt...at peace knowing that her favourite people finally made themselves official. But that couldn’t stop her from being jealous of the medium, jealous because many times she wished to be the one that had gifted her that gold ring with tiny rubies that rested in Dara’s left ring finger, jealous because...well, Billie was alive and could give everything to their pretty flower.
“You aren’t that bad yourself, sweetheart,” she mumbled in response, leaning a bit better and resting her head in Dara’s shoulder, her hand tracing her necklace and fixing her shirt.
“Miss Montgomery, you’re terrible! Scandalous even, wow,” Dara imitated her and Nora closed her eyes, feeling how her laugh vibrated through her skin like a soft hum that made her chuckle in response. And then a sweet silence settled between them, until Dara broke it again. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, mhm?”
Oh, Nora didn’t know how to start to reply to that.
In fact she didn’t even know why Dara was there to begin with, but she found herself not caring because it was like her own feelings had summoned her that day to the house.
Nora had opened her eyes in the morning as if she had the longest nap ever, those days being like that, like a never ending nap that gave her enough energies to go through one and only day; and she felt somewhat free. The basement was in silence, as it always was after her Thaddeus had passed a few years ago, but something was calling her to go upstairs. She had done that and the first person she crossed ways with had been Hayden, that looked at her half worried half shocked, and then Violet had almost knocked her down while asking if she was feeling alright.
‘More than alright, I think I’m gonna take a walk around the house today.’ she had tell her and it didn’t come from the white lies she always told. Nora had been feeling great the moment she was out of her usual place in the house. It had been like something had set off from her chest and she could breathe again.
So she had done that with Violet by her side, listening to all the stories Nora had of the house. Stories of the past but also of the present, and it came a moment in which she could only talk about memories she made with the woman that was holding her so tightly in her arms.
“Not much,” Nora decided to reply, closing her eyes again to indulge in the warmth. “Just that I’m glad you are here...I kinda felt like dancing today.”
When the little walk around the house had came to an end, Nora had felt like a spark starting in her belly, the one she always got when she was ready to do something fun and new. That same spark was what had brought her outside, feeling the sun in her like as if it was something she never experienced before. Then her eyes had fixed in the rose bushes - white roses starting to bloom, white roses that were planted because they were Nora’s favourites - and she found herself wondering once again if she ever felt that content with something so simple.
“Dancing? Well, I can fix that then,” Dara finally moved and Nora almost yelled at her to not go, a sudden panic rising in her chest and her throat, but then she placed her lips to her forehead lightly to not stain her skin with lipstick. “But first I need to go to the bathroom, you wait me here okay? I’ll be back in a flash.”
“Sure, I’ll clean this...mess to entertain myself,” Nora said, letting out an exasperated breathe that made Dara laugh in response, retrieving her cane from where it was resting. “Making a girl wait, her manners’ been rubbing off on you miss Lynch.”
Nora had managed to get some already bloomed and do a simple arrangement to put as decoration somewhere in the house. But the second she had looked at her work, her energies fell to the ground and her legs hadn’t been able to hold her anymore. Alone, but without the need to call out for help, she waited there just feeling her body lighter, in hopes the sun helped her to regain some energies to keep moving. Oh, what her mother would had said if she passed out in the lawn? Her eyes could only keep themselves busy in those roses about to bloom, soft rosebuds she wasn’t sure if she was going to see them at all.
“Nora?” Violet’s voice made her hum just to let the girl know she was being listened, but her fingers were moving along the form of Dara’s cellphone. “Where’s-”
“Bathroom, in the other house,” Nora didn’t look at her, with a mere move of her head in the correct direction. “Could you give me a hand, dear? I need...well, I don’t know how this works aside that you can call, so...I want to speak with Billie Dean.”
“Why don’t you wa-”
“Privately, Violet,” she felt the tears tingling in her eyes, threatening to spill, but Nora held them. “Please.”
It wasn’t until Dara had arrived, all of a sudden, that she actually felt that both Vivien and Violet had been trying to make her go inside. The time in between when she felt her energies fall until Dara was hugging her from behind was blank in her mind, but she found herself yet again not minding at all because her sun was there already to take her home. It was the only thing she needed at this point to keep going...and now that Dara was there, she felt complete...
However, there was still a little something in her, waiting to be untied and set free once for all. Something that had to do with the woman she, along Violet, was trying to reach. The teenager was quick to find Billie’s contact and when the phone started to ring, she wasn’t nervous at all. Her hand went to where she knew the bullet hole was, out of habit, just to find the spot clean of any wound, and she smiled softly when she found her mouth didn’t taste like iron and salt.
“Annie?” oh, how jealous Nora was because she took the softer name to make it hers. “It’s me Billie Dean.” Nora said, moderating her voice because Dara had taught her at least that she didn’t need to yell at all. “Nora...is Annie with you? Is she okay?” Billie was nervous, panicked even, but she was trying to sound composed to not give it away. “Yes, she just went to Constance’s for a second. I wanted to speak with you before she comes back, Violet helped me with...the demonic device.” and at that, Nora shushed Violet with her hand so she could be alone in the kitchen. “One day you’ll call it by its name, ‘s way easier darling,” Nora chuckled at that because God, how different it felt be called sweet names from different people, even if it was the same one. “Of course.” she rubbed her hands together for a second, not knowing how to say those words. “Then...what did you want to talk about?” Billie encouraged her and Nora caught a laugh from behind her voice, not Billie’s at all. “I...thank you, Billie Dean. Thank you, for everything you have done for me.” and with that, the little something was gone and she felt even more light, her head feeling more clear. “Simple as that, just thank you.” and the silence arrived in the other side of the line at the same time the front door unlocked.
Nora’s hand pushed the red button quickly, as Violet had told her to if she wanted to end the call, and then left the phone where it was before she decided to move towards the living room and wait for Dara there.
It wasn’t as simple as that, because that would probably the first time Nora ever thanked Billie. A thank you for not letting anyone else to come into this cursed house by buying it, a thank you for restoring it for her, a thank you for letting her come in their lives…
...a thank you for letting her love Dara in a way she died without knowing it was possible.
“Did the ballroom started without me?” Dara said in a happy-go-lucky tone, hobbling slowly in the living room with her phone in hand. “Which song are we playi-”
“Can you sing today, dear?” it wasn’t an usual request, but Nora wanted to hear Dara’s voice as much as possible. “I love your voice.”
“Of course, anything for you,” when Nora looked at Dara, she looked younger, almost like she looked ten years ago when they met. Her features full of that softness she usually got when she was looking at Billie…but now, her girl got it all for her. “Then I’ll start with my favourite one.”
Once Dara was holding her close to her body, Nora knew that was where she belonged. An arm over Dara’s shoulders, the other one sandwiched in between their bodies, all of that while holding her handkerchief with one of her dearest one’s hands resting over and pushing it to her chest, where her beating heart sounded for them two. Nora found her right place in the hollow of Dara’s neck, where she could feel how the woman was starting to sing only for her.
Oh, it felt beautifully to experience that.
She chuckled when Dara changed the lyrics to fit a bit better, all of that as they swinged ever so softly, and she could feel more eyes watching them. The energy of the rest occupants was starting to beat too fast for her, in a pace she felt herself not belonging, and she decide to press her lips to Dara’s cleavage - in the start, almost in the middle of her chest - to make herself feel anchored to something. It left a lipstick mark, but who cared in that moment? All Nora could hear at this point was how Dara’s heartbeat felt more easy to follow than anything else.
And because she finally found her own beat, her own pace...that’s why Nora felt brave enough to say those next words.
“I love you Dally,” Dara didn’t stop from moving but she did stop from singing, just so she could meet Nora’s eyes. She felt so full, so light at the same time, so very much at peace. “I love you, and I will always do.”
Easy as it was, Nora stood on her tiptoes to initiate for the first time a kiss. A kiss that was returned as if it was meant to be...as if it wasn’t going to be the last.
When Dara opened her eyes, Nora wasn’t there, but her handkerchief was still pressed in her palm. She looked around for a second, her fingers pressed then to her lips with the lingering warmth Nora left, and the silence started to press all over her body in a way she never felt before.
“Nora, where are you?” she asked out loud, moving to retrieve her cane once again, looking around not only the living room but in the kitchen. “Nora! C’mon darling, you know I don’t like playing hide and seek,” her voice wavered and for a second she tried to reach for Nora’s energy in some way, like Billie once taught her to, but not working at all. “Nora!”
Every second that it passed, Dara calling the name of the ghost, it was a torture. Not only because she didn’t get any response back but also because it started to wake other ghosts in the house. Vivien and Violet appeared when she rounded the stairs, ready to go to the basement alone - a voice really similar to Billie’s screaming at her to not do that -, and made her go upstairs along a confused Tate that was drawn by all the ruckus. Hayden’s voice was heard outside the house, calling for Nora too, but any of them got a response.
She was starting to panic, panic like she never did before.
The tension in her whole body was enough to make her grit her teeth, piling up in her chest and starting to burn with the buzz of all the souls trapped in the Montgomery's house. That’s why she didn’t like that part of her powers, that’s why she was so overwhelmed that there was too much activity in one place. It made her feel she was going to explode.
And when she got to the open kitchen again, Tate behind her almost pulling all his hair out, Dara finally saw Charles.
Vivien, Violet, Moira and Hayden were looking at him too, as if they had never seen him before. He looked...clean, out of her scrubs and with a proper suit. Dara knew that suit, it was the same he was wearing in that family picture Billie and her found of the Montgomery’s. Somehow, he also looked more...free, as to speak, his energy felt almost refreshing when his was always one of those that reeked in a different intensity.
Dara felt her heart beating so loud in her ears, however, making her see red again today and feeling a sudden burst of heat in her chest. In a swift movement of her hand, she held her cane more like a bat than a cane, ready to smash his head if that meant to know where Nora was, but before she could take the first step Charles spoke up.
"She's not here," his eyes went then to the rest in the kitchen before landing again in Dara. "It's useless that you keep on calling out for her.."
"What are you saying? Where did she go," it came out of Dara's mouth more like a growl than a question, one that hanged between all of them as if it was an unspoken truth and made Dara to feel multiple chills running down her spine. "I'm not joking Charles! Where the fuck is Nora!?"
"I think you know where she is, dear," this time it was Moira the one that talked, her voice filled with sadness, relief and maybe a bit of jealousy. "We all know."
No, no, no.
"For a really long time we avoided each other, even before we...ended like this," Charles kept going, walking now to the middle of the empty living room. "Money, the house, our son... everything was something ideal to argue about. It pained me, those times I was lucid, to see us like that," he chuckled lightly and Dara's heart beated harder, painfully even. "To see that I couldn't make her happy in any possible way. It's macabre to say we got what we deserved, mostly because it was my fault what transpired in the last moments of our lives, and as the years passed by...well, let's say a hundred years gives you enough time to think and see as much as I was lost in myself."
Dara didn't want to listen to him, she really didn't. She closed her eyes and tried harder to reach Nora's energy, feeling even more strained by doing so, and then she fell to her knees without strength. A set of hands reached for her, burning like molten metal that she couldn't roll away from. But her eyes, now open again, went to the man that had stopped in his advance.
Tears blinded her, making Charles blurry in short distance along the tiny child that was crawling towards him.
Charles looked around then before leaning to take his son in his arms, smiling tenderly upon seeing his perfect face instead of what he became because of him. Giving him a cuddle in his cheek, perfect round cheek so similar to his wife, he finally looked at the woman that was breaking down in front of him. How she was being held by that young lady, the daughter of the last owners of the house; how she was crying her eyes out, the loss hitting her like icy water; how it made him see that his most wanted wish was finally fulfilled.
Didn’t Charles wanted to make Nora happy since the moment they met? Didn’t he wanted her to know he loved her?
He wasn’t able to do it, but through the last decade he had seen how someone else did. How someone had pulled all the broken pieces that he contributed to smash and put them together again; how someone else heard his Nora, made her feel important, made her grow out of many of the things that remained in her from her youth, loved her as she was instead of wanting to change her, and overall made her happy in the palace he built for her to enjoy to her heart’s content.
And that helped him heal along the way in the shadows, where anyone was noticing him, until the same woman that swiped his wife of her feet reached for him too.
“Above all the wrong I did, above all the chaos that we were,” Charles felt himself smiling truthfully after too many years, feeling how Thaddeus started to fall asleep in his shoulder. “I do have to thank you, miss Lynch, because you made us see what we truly needed.” And it felt so peaceful saying that, the heavy weight remaining in his presence lifting and flying away. “I would suggest, however, to take some vacation from my dearest house...I’m afraid there are still too many evil forces and our darling Nora isn’t here to protect you anymore.”
When Charles walked away, his silhouette and energy gone of the house, the whole place seemed to hiss and creak under Dara’s body.
A new rush of energy filled her, the adrenaline pumping in her veins with such strength that when Violet and Vivien pulled her up she didn’t feel any pain. That wasn’t the only thing she was feeling, because the energy of the house was trying to pick at her all at once. She overheard steps all over the place, not only upstairs, but also downstairs and her sense to flight ringed louder than ever when she saw Tate launching himself against another ghost that was entering the living room in that moment. The house was trying to eat her alive, not only her energy - or what was left of it at this point - but her whole body too.
"You have to go," Vivien said before Violet took Dara's hand to make her run. "Don't worry about us, you have to make it home."
The only thing Dara did was to tighten the grip on Violet's hand as they started to run as much as they could through the back door in the kitchen.
Billie had a bad feeling installed in her stomach the second Nora hanged up the phone. Not only because it was the second time in her life that someone hanged up on her, but because she had this heavy pressure in the back of her head. Pressure that was only making her more and more restless as the minutes passed by.
Audrey was being a sweetheart, like always, being the one carrying the conversation most of the time or suggesting that they should do a marathon on that show they promised to watch together. She had let Billie put her legs on her lap, she had turned a blind eye on how Billie checked her phone every few minutes - when usually she didn’t like to have it near at all, now she had it pressed to her chest as if having the device in her skin would calm her-, she had offered to make tea and sandwiches and...and Billie couldn’t be more thankful to at least have Audrey here.
When Billie spied on Audrey making the afternoon snack, she had wondered where she had learnt to be like that. Even when she was feeling uneasy, Billie’s mind dug up everything she had learnt in those years about her best friend, and she was sure the way she was trying to act more homie wasn’t something she had in her before. Half hidden between the cushions, Billie’s mind also started to wonder and wonder, and in between wondering she asked herself for a second if maybe once was remotely possible to have that view everyday.
But soon she found that the view didn’t happen in her old kitchen, didn’t belong to this time nor even to this her.
This her wasn’t what Audrey needed, that for sure, what she neede-
Audrey thought she was going to have a heart attack the second the door opened wide all of a sudden. It banged against the wall with such strength that it startled her enough to drop what she had in her hands. Turning around, the only two things Audrey saw was Billie standing up of the couch at light speed and Dara in between the couch and the kitchen counter, panting harshly as if she was barely catching her breath in that moment.
All that before falling to the ground as if her whole body had given up.
It sent Audrey to panic, making her let out a loud gasp, and she rounded the counter to find Dara sobbing loudly on the floor, clawing at her shirt as if she was trying to get out of it unsuccessfully and she was clearly hurting herself in the process.
“Annie, Annie, stop!” Billie’s panicked scream made Audrey react enough to hold herself in the counter. She silently watched in horror how her best friend reached her wife, the first thing she did was to hold her wrists to stop her. “God, you’re...bleeding, what...Annie, please, don’t-”
In all the time Audrey had known the couple, she hadn’t seen the youngest part of it to act differently as calm. Dara’s sobs were heartbreaking, choking on her tears and own breathing, making her cough violently because she was trying to speak at the same time. It was a mess, a scary one in fact, and Billie was handling it all by herself as best as she knew.
“Baby, please, I need to see...” Dara had managed to break free from Billie’s hold and was now protecting her neck for her dear life while Billie was trying to pull her up against her chest, so Dara’s back was resting there. “You’re boiling in fever...Annie, c-can you stand up? Love, listen to me, you need to calm down…”
But the best that Billie knew, wasn’t enough right now.
How could she handle Audrey so well, yet when her wife was the one she was about to panic? She didn’t ever see Billie panic, getting mad for sure, but panic? Ever. And as scared, anxious and confused as Audrey was, something inside her tried to clear her head to help two of the three people in her life that always came to rescue her when the bad days were too much to handle.
“Bills, we need to get her in the shower,” Audrey’s strained voice surprised Billie, but watching her move was what made her react again. Dara was pretty much still a mess, but now she was trying to hide in Billie’s chest with any energy she had left. “You hold her body, I get her legs.”
Watching Dara whine and cry harder just because she seemed to think Billie was leaving her was one of the hardest things she saw. Billie kissed her head and whispered things Audrey couldn’t understand for a solid minute before they managed to lift her joining forces. Dara hissed in pain as soon as Audrey pulled her legs up and Billie looked even more in panic, eyes even more full of unshed tears. But they made it to the ensuite bathroom as fast as they could, which made the suffering end quickly.
“I’ll start the shower, get her out of her clothes and...try to see if she’s more hurt,” Audrey was trying to keep her cool, let Billie handle her wife, by being useful and ease things for them.
“Yeah, I-I’ll...yeah,” her hands were unbuttoning Dara’s shirt when Audrey turned around to give them some privacy, which she always tried to give them even when they were together. “My love, it’s okay, I’m not going anywhere…” ‘My love’ sounded right in Billie’s lips when she directed i to Dara. “There you a-your knees are scraped too...Annie, what happened…”
Dara only sobbed harder with that and when Audrey turned around again, she felt her heart squeeze very tightly inside her ribcage upon seeing Dara like that. Stripped down except for her underwear, she realized then that she wasn’t as full as she used to be, her skin was glistening with sweat and Billie had used her own t-shirt to clean the blood coming out of her nose and out of the scratches in her chest. Did she always had that scar in her left collarbone? Even the scar from the accident in her right hip was even more scary. And all of that as whole made Dara look so...small and vulnerable, that she could understand why Billie was crying finally.
“Billie,” Audrey called out for her and Billie seemed so lost once she managed to look back, so sad, that she had to put her bravest face on to not let away her own fear. “If she has fever, we have to lower it.”
Billie looked then at Audrey with new eyes, her arms tightening around Dara to protect her from anything.
The uneasiness she was feeling suddenly made sense, the voice talking to her from another side telling her something completely different to what she was hearing in reality. And it was a shock that she totally wasn’t prepared for. How bad she wanted to kiss, to hide, to do anything in her power to take the suffering away from her wife.
“Sweetie,” she felt her body restarting, letting go a ragged breath for a second, her hand cradling Dara’s head against her chest better. “She’s burning up and if we don’t do something, it will go worse.”
“Yeah, we have to,” Billie felt herself nod, only making worse the raging headache she felt building up behind her eyes, and she wasn’t sure how but with Audrey’s help they both lifted Dara again to make her stand in her feet, even when it was clear she couldn’t keep herself standing. “Let’s do it, I got you...we got you.”
Upon saying that, Billie suddenly felt the scent of million roses filling her. Oh, you were always so extra. She felt herself tearing up again and Dara got a new whole wave of sobs, because obviously she was feeling it too. Audrey couldn’t, God blessed her, and she felt more eager to get Dara under the shower just because of that.
Billie didn’t care her clothes got wet, she just stood there holding her close to her chest and letting her cry. When was the last time she was like that? Not even the breakdown in the morning compared to this one, it wasn’t even similar. And she let her do that, to cry, to be held, to let go of all that; because she deserved it. Trembling as she was, Dara kept mumbling and sobbing what it seemed apologies, and Billie shushed her with all the care in the world.
They would overcome this too, she was sure of it, as they did all those times before...but this time, Billie was going to be the one guiding her love through it.
Once Dara managed to stop trembling and to be separated from her wife, Audrey got her wrapped in a towel, firm arms holding her while Billie took off her clothes and went to retrieve dry ones for both. Asking her in a mere whisper if she could walk, Audrey also managed to make Dara move little by little towards the bed, where she sat her and started to check the superficial scratches she had. Billie left a pair of her own pajamas by Dara’s side before going to retrieve something to patch her wife up, and, along with her best friend, they worked through the tiny injuries before helping Dara to get in new clothes.
“I’ll go get some tea,” Audrey said finally in tiny voice, once Dara was settled under the covers like a crying ball that she still was, and Billie was trying to kiss her tears away. “Do you want something else dear?”
“C-can you stay tonight?” Billie asked right away, looking up at her friend in a way Audrey never saw her before. “I know you have a lot on your plate, even more after these days, and I’m sor-”
But Billie got silent went Audrey walked towards her to kiss her forehead first and then put her hand in Dara’s cheek tenderly. How could she say no when they both had done bigger things for her? How could deny her best friend that, seeing how much she needed a hand with this new situation, when she never asked something in return?
“I’ll do, don’t even apologize,” she said in a whisper before leaving the room. “I’ll also get some hot towels just in case, okay?”
When they were alone, Billie didn’t lose time to get in bed with Dara, who reached for her as soon as she was close to bury her face in her chest once more. She wasn’t sobbing anymore, thankfully, but it was scary how she seemed unable to stop from crying. Billie brushed her wet locks of hair out of her face and kissed her brow with love, kissed anywhere she could to not let her think she was alone.
“I’m sorry I let her go,” Dara cried, her body shaking with a sob that never reached her lips. “I’m sorry Billie, I’m sorry...I had to do something, anything...and now she’s...she’s gone Billie, Nora is gone…”
“Your love took her there,” Billie whispered with the warmth she felt in the back of her neck intensifying because she knew they were being listened. “You healed her, my love, you helped her to finally move on...and that’s nothing to be sorry about.”
Billie knew too many things Dara was completely oblivious of, oh that she knew, too many years holding all the secrets the ghost confided in her. And her last words for her wife were full of those secrets and the truth.
Maybe one day she would be able to tell everything to Dara, because she was sure Nora wanted her to know eventually; maybe the next morning she would ask for the whole version of what truly happened; maybe Billie would find a way to let Dara go back to the place she loved.
But for the rest of night, once Audrey came back with everything and with her help they kinda sandwiched her wife between them, she was pretty much okay with finally resting of the whole madness that this was.
Rest from all the countdowns that came to an end in two days. Rest from all the doubts and wonderings, rest from ten years of being a total coward.
Rest knowing that, finally, she was free to love Dara as much as she deserved.
#nora montgomery x original character#ahs murder house#ahs roanoke#nora montgomery#billie dean howard#dara ann lynch#billie dean howard x original character
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22 Corporate April Fools' Day Pranks, Ranked from Best to Lamest
Well, we survived another April Fools’ Day. And, as it always goes, most brands unveiled some kind of mild, inoffensive prank for the holiday.
Here are 23 of the more notable April Fools’ Day pranks from yesterday, which we’ve subjectively ranked from best to lamest.
1. Jagermeister went edgy with the “Jagerbong” . . . a gift box that helps you turn an old Jagermeister bottle into a bong. It includes a pipe, a lighter, eye drops, and a hackey sack.
German engineering reaches a new high… pic.twitter.com/Az0Bf6dcQu
— Jägermeister USA (@JagermeisterUSA) March 29, 2019
2. The “L.A. Times”parodied the “New York Times” rep for writing about the rest of the U.S. like it’s a mysterious, cultural wasteland, quote, “No one associates New York, a city in the eastern United States, with good restaurants. That’s beginning to change.”
No one associates New York, a city in the eastern United States, with good restaurants. That's beginning to change. https://t.co/WpPyyvqKHU
— L.A. Times Food (@latimesfood) April 1, 2019
3. This got a lot of press coverage leading up to April Fools’ Day . . . but yes, Tinder’s new “height verification” feature is fake.
4. Honda Canada announced a new “polite horn,” where instead of honking, your horn makes a passive aggressive coughing sound.
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5. McDonald’s Australia posted a picture of the McPickle . . . which is basically a Big Mac with a bunch of pickles replacing the meat. But it may backfire . . . because someone tweeted instructions on how to actually order it.
View this post on Instagram
Pickle lovers, it’s the news you’ve all been waiting for. We’re super stoked to announce the launch of our brand new McPickle Burger. It’s time to tuck into juicy, flavoursome pickles layered between melted cheese, ketchup sauce and toasted sesame seed buns. It’s sure to be a treat for all your senses. #dailynuggets #mcpickle #pickleoverload #maccas #imlovinit
A post shared by McDonald's Australia (@mcdonaldsau) on Mar 31, 2019 at 1:03pm PDT
6. Popchips went edgier than expected and announced individually-wrapped chips that are, quote, “ridged for your pleasure.”
View this post on Instagram
introducing our new single serve pack – Just the Chip! now you can practice safe snacking on-the-go, anywhere, anyplace, anytime, any position. #justthechip learn more via the link in our bio!
A post shared by popchips (@popchips) on Apr 1, 2019 at 6:00am PDT
7. The U.S. Open tweeted a Photoshopped picture of a cute dog serving as a tennis ball retriever for the next tournament.
BREAKING: The US Open to add puppies to the ballperson team at the 2019 tournament for the first time.
All breeds welcome. pic.twitter.com/Yu5ySEhriF
— US Open Tennis (@usopen) April 1, 2019
8. Mova Globes announced a new flat globe for flat earthers.
You asked. We answered. The #FlatEarth MOVA Globe is available now on https://t.co/4HtFIUr2qg. pic.twitter.com/MFrphk9UGA
— MOVA Globes (@movaglobes) April 1, 2019
9. T-Mobile went for irony, and announced a new line of phone booths, to let you talk in privacy even on busy streets.
View this post on Instagram
Portable Public Privacy at its finest – go anywhere with our Phone BoothE Mobile EditionE.
A post shared by T-Mobile (@tmobile) on Mar 31, 2019 at 9:16pm PDT
10. McDonald’s announced “Shake Sauce” . . . little packets of shakes to dip your fries in. The comments are all people wishing it were real . . . it’s never good when people like your fake products more than your real ones.
View this post on Instagram
Meet #ShakeSauce — a sweet new way to dip.
A post shared by McDonald's (@mcdonalds) on Apr 1, 2019 at 5:01am PDT
11. SodaStream announced a new plan where you can add bubbles to your soda using your own bodily functions.
Houston we solved the problem!
Burping in space is a thing of the past. Introducing our new collaboration with @StationCDRKelly, SodastreamME!
Tag a friend you KNOW needs this :) pic.twitter.com/Cx3BIaickU
— SodaStream USA (@SodaStreamUSA) April 1, 2019
12. KFC announced chicken-flavored ice cream, infused with bits of candied chicken skin in a cornbread cone.
13. Lego announced a new “Find My Brick” app that scans a pile of Legos for the one you want. I know brands don’t want to be TOO edgy, but this is just TOO un-edgy.
The long search is finally over… 📱 #FindMyBrick pic.twitter.com/3yBIPJ2OPk
— LEGO (@LEGO_Group) April 1, 2019
14. Durex announced new fish skin condoms with a Mala hot pot flavor. Never mind, you CAN take a joke too far.
Spice things up & experience the taste of the NEW Fish Skin Condom with Mala Hot Pot flavour. Packed with handpicked…
Posted by Durex on Sunday, March 31, 2019
15. Google let you play the old school video game “Snake” on top of Google Maps. That’s not exactly a prank, it’s more of an Easter egg they’d roll out any other day of the year.
16. Hasbro played on the “millennials kill everything” cliché by announcing Mr. Potato Head has been replaced with Mr. Avocado Head. But it’s not landing great, probably because millennial-avocado jokes are just so played out.
Holy guacamole! We’ve given Mr. Potato Head the sack and we're introducing his new hipster companion, Mr Avo Head! pic.twitter.com/Y9aRITCTd7
— Hasbro (@Hasbro) April 1, 2019
17. Michelob Ultra started an online petition to create the first-ever cat park. Not sure what that has to do with super light beer, but there you go.
Dogs have dedicated parks everywhere. Cats have 0. Let’s change that.
We’re petitioning on @Change to give cats & their owners the space they deserve to exercise together—the first-ever cat park! Show support by RTing and signing the petition in our bio! #ULTRACatPark. 🐈 pic.twitter.com/A0t8jl3Bgx
— Michelob ULTRA (@MichelobULTRA) March 30, 2019
18. Lockheed Martin announced a new fragrance called Vector, which smells like space.
19. Dunkin’ Donuts created a “super dough holder” . . . which is just two giant donuts around a cup of coffee.
View this post on Instagram
Introducing… The Super Dough Holder! 🍩
A post shared by Dunkin’ (@dunkin) on Apr 1, 2019 at 5:07am PDT
20. Auntie Anne’s kind of lazily announced pretzel shop yoga with a picture of a woman sitting cross-legged, holding two pretzels.
View this post on Instagram
Join us in our new hybrid pretzel shop hot yoga studios today! Nom nom namaste. Link in bio
A post shared by Auntie Anne's (@auntieannespretzels) on Apr 1, 2019 at 6:03am PDT
21. Dippin’ Dots announced a new roll-on deodorant but, unfortunately, it appears they only spent about 30 seconds on an AWFUL Photoshop job.
Smell the fun! Starts out colorful, stays on cool. pic.twitter.com/A4SlyhZAyR
— Dippin' Dots (@DippinDots) April 1, 2019
22. And finally, Starbucks announced Pupbucks, a store for dogs. The video they made for it isn’t close to as funny as they think it is . . . quote, “I have a whole grain beagle for a good boy.” Nope.
We're so excited to announce our newest concept stores: Starbucks for your best fur-iend. #Pupbucks pic.twitter.com/xgAEn0Dxss
— Starbucks Coffee (@Starbucks) April 1, 2019
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tfln masterlist; #1 - #99.
it’s been a long time coming, i know, but i’ve finally gotten around to creating a mobile masterlist for my text prompts. making things a little easier for you all to access them. a huge, huge thank-you to @life-is-just-better-in-pyjamas for collecting all of the links and sending them to me; you’ve been an absolute sweetheart and i am truly grateful for everything you’ve done in regards to my text prompts.
they’re split into different posts (which i greatly apologise for) because, i think, tumblr gets a little overwhelmed with the amount of links that are in one post - which sucks because it would be a great deal of help to have them all in one place.
if there are any issues then let me know. requests are always open for these prompts.
#1 - the one where there is no ranch and pickle in the house.
#2 - the one where the missus jokes around.
#3 - the one where harry sends a naughty text into the family group chat.
#4 - the one with persephone’s break-up.
#5 - the one with the stomach bug.
#6 - the one with valentines advice.
#7 - the one where harry thinks he could be kanye.
#8 - the one where the missus wants to be romantic for valentines day.
#9 - the one where the missus has a bad day.
#10 - the one where darcy texts alfie about a bully.
#11 - the one where harry and the missus are ready to have a baby.
#12 - the one where the missus experiences pregnancy pains.
#13 - the one where jack comes for dinner.
#14 - the one where harry sends a nude to niall.
#15 - the one where the missus takes too long.
#16 - the one with the twins’ eighteenth birthday.
#17 - the one with the cancelled date.
#18 - the one with anne’s sleeping arrangements.
#19 - the one where anne asks if the missus is pregnant.
#20 - the one where gemma wants to be an auntie.
#21 - the one where harry left after a fight.
#22 - the one where the missus and harry are loud during sex.
#23 - (fratboy!harry) the one where harry wants yn to attend his football game.
#24 - the one where the missus is soon to join harry on tour.
#25 - the one where the missus is hormonal and harry cancels their dinner plans.
#26 - the one where harry makes up after a fight.
#27 - the one where the missus is out with anne and gemma and he decides to be naughty.
#28 - the one where the missus wants to know what colour looks best on her.
#29 - the one where anne makes sure they’re protected.
#30 - the one where the boys tease him about his honeymoon plans.
#31 - the one where anne’s icloud leaks.
#32 - the one where the missus tells anne she’s pregnant.
#33 - the one where the missus accidentally sends niall nudes.
#34 - the one with the stain on the sofa.
#35 - the one where the missus thinks she’s miscarried.
#36 - the one where the missus hears persephone having sex.
#37 - the one with the strip club.
#38 - the one where harry sends a nude to anne.
#39 - the one where harry upsets the missus.
#40 - the one where harry wees in the street and gets arrested.
#41 - the one where harry gets drunk.
#42 - the one where the missus gets diagnosed with depression.
#43 - the one where harry has a breakdown on tour.
#44 - the one where the missus is pregnant and harry is worried.
#45 - (divorce!au) the one where alfie wants to see harry and persephone sorts something out.
#46 - the one where the missus gets diagnosed with an eating disorder.
#47 - the one with the missus’ hen-night.
#48 - the one where the missus doesn’t know what condoms to buy.
#49 - the one where harry needs glasses.
#50 - the one where the boys talk about the missus’ magazine photoshoot.
#51 - the one where the missus sends harry lingerie photos.
#52 - the one with the missus’ birthday.
#53 - (bestfriend!harry) the one where the missus sleeps with harry and asks louis for advice.
#54 - the one where harry and the missus discuss godparents.
#55 - the one where harry’s in a meeting and the missus is feeling horny.
#56 - the one where harry asks the missus to move in with him.
#57 - the one where the pregnant missus leaves after a fight and harry gets worried.
#58 - (college!harry) the one where harry and yn panic over their sick daughter.
#59 - the one where harry and the missus get dirty with each other.
#60 - the one where the missus asks if she can wear harry’s necklace and shirt.
#61 - the one where the missus accidentally asks louis what condoms he uses.
#62 - the one where anne walks in on harry and the missus.
#63 - the one where harry sends a dirty text into a group chat.
#64 - the one where louis organises a trip for the missus and persephone.
#65 - the one with harry’s first day on the dunkirk set.
#66 - (marcel!au) the one where marcel plans a dinner to introduce his friend to his mother.
#67 - the one where alfie and ellie have a pregnancy scare.
#68 - the one where the missus is involved in a leak scandal.
#69 - the one where harry is in france and sees papped photos of his wife.
#70 - the one where harry has a condom in his back pocket.
#71 - the one where the missus is pregnant and they discuss telling alfie and persephone.
#72 - the one where harry tells the missus he’s going to be in dunkirk.
#73 - (actor!harry) the one where the missus takes the kids to see harry on set.
#74 - the one where the missus asks harry what she should wear the dunkirk premiere.
#75 - the one where harry gets hurt.
#76 - the one where harry surprises the missus with plane tickets.
#77 - the one where the missus feels lonely.
#78 - the one where harry looks sexy in his dunkirk costume.
#79 - the one where rose isn’t well.
#80 - (actor!harry) the one where the missus struggles on her own.
#81 - the one where persephone sees harry with another woman.
#82 - the one where harry hears alfie and ellie.
#83 - the one where alfie is embarrassed.
#84 - the one with another negative pregnancy test.
#85 - the one where darcy is infertile.
#86 - the one where harry hates watching the bachelorette.
#87 - the one where harry is distant.
#88 - the where niall is annoying.
#89 - the one where they haven’t had sex in a while.
#90 - the one where the kids work things out.
#91 - (fratboy!harry) the one where harry is hungover and wants food.
#92 - (singleparent!harry) the one where harry has a child from a previous relationship.
#93 - the one where rose ends up in hospital.
#94 - (fratboy!harry) the one where teasing turns into flirting.
#95 - the one with the vandalism.
#96 - the one where they’re sat opposite each other.
#97 - the one where alfie gets drunk.
#98 - the one where rose wet the bed.
#99 - the one where they’re a secret.
#tfln masterlist 1#1 to 99#one direction preferences#one direction imagines#one direction texts#harry styles imagines#harry imagines#harry styles blurbs#harry blurbs#harry styles concepts#harry concepts
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obey
The sounds of childish laughter resonate throughout the garden, a young boy with blonde hair running across the lawn screaming in joy between his giggles. Behind him follow more children, one with jet-black hair and a cheeky smile, one who looks massively bigger than the rest, a little girl with a blunt sword almost the size of her in her hand, and two skinny boys, one with black hair cut extremely short and the other with shaggy blonde hair.
“Thor, you’re too fast,” Volstagg says, his breath catching.
“You’re just too slow,” Thor teases, turning his head to blow a raspberry at Volstagg. He doesn’t notice the root jutting out in front of him and trips over it, sprawling across the garden. He hears the sounds of his friends and brother laughing, and feels like he’s about to burst into tears.
“Are you okay, Thor?” Sif asks, her face looming over his. Thor wants to go to his Mother and cry in her fancy gown. He doesn’t want to talk to these people right now. His knees hurt and he wants Freida.
“Go away,” he whines, his voice cracking slightly as he tries not to cry in front of all of them. He’s going to be the King of Asgard soon and he doesn’t want Father to not make him king because he cried like a baby.
“Awww, is Thor going to cry?” Loki asks, crouching over his older brother’s body. He has a cheeky smirk on his face and Thor wants to kick his little brother. Sometimes he wishes Loki was never born because ugh, he is so annoying. Like how Heimdall never lets him visit any of the other Realms without ‘adult supervision’, whatever that means.
“Shut up, Loki,” Thor lets out, feeling kind of angry. Especially because none of his friends have listened to him. They’re all surrounding Thor as if he’s a new toy that they don’t know what to do with. Plus, he’s going to be The King, they should be listening to him! He hopes and wishes he can get new friends and a better little brother tomorrow.
“Maybe we should call Aunty Freida,” Hogun offers, and Thor thinks of him as his only true friend at the moment.
“No, Thor’s a big boy, he doesn’t need Mommy,” Loki rejects and lets out a little giggle. Suddenly, in place of Loki there is a little puppy and Thor giggles. He loves puppies! They’re so cute and soft and cuddly!
“Volstagg, don’t hit it!” Sif screams just as Volstagg is about to stomp on the furry creature.
“But, it’s weird-looking,” Volstagg replies, his face tilting as he examines the four-legged being.
“It’s a puppy, silly,” Thor informs him as he tries to sit up. When he feels his knee sting further, a tear escapes his eye.
“Thor, are you crying?” Fandral asks, half-distracted by the puppy now sniffing around him. “Stop that.” He points his finger threateningly at the small mammal.
“Shut up!” Thor shouts. In the distance, lightning cackles. “I want all of you to go away.” When no one moves, he grows angry. “I said, go away!” He wants to hit all of them but he can’t because otherwise he knows his Mother will tell him that he shouldn’t go around hitting his friends. But he’s going to be King, and people should be listening to him. Yes, that’s what he’ll tell his mother the next time she scolds him. “Go away! That’s an order!” His friends look at him oddly and the puppy jumps onto Thor’s lap. “Obey! I’m going to be King of-”
“You’re caught, come catch us!” Loki squeals, as he pushes over Thor and runs away from his older brother. Thor’s lap is now curiously empty. His friends follow Loki, rushing after him trying to create some distance. Thor lunges after them, running to catch his little brother, barely feeling the sting in his leg anymore. He’s going to tell his Mother all about how Loki is a little cheater!
~ “maybe you’re not so bad after all, brother.” ~
679 words
i legit have this headcanon that loki & thor always take care of each other no matter what & it was only as they got older than loki got more bitter towards thor thanks to odin, father of the millenium™.
also, amidst so many angsty post-iw fanfiction & posts, i thought a little fluffy loki & thor bromance would be a good way to appreciate, love & laugh w/ these characters. im hoping & praying loki comes back bc my bois have only gotten back to being proper brothers™ and now he’s fucking dead???
also that final quote is from ragnarok @ the end when they’re on the ship.
also idc if loki can’t actually shapeshift into a puppy. fuck that shit. in this he can :)
also 2002 by anne-marie & let me by zayn are nice songs. no they dont have anything to do with this but huhu just felt like sharing that information :)
#thor#loki#thor and his squad#thor & loki bromance#thor and loki are the cutest#brotherly love#taking care of each other#thor and loki fluff#thor fluff#loki fluff#kid!thor#kid!loki#loki and thor as children#headcanon#thor headcanon#thor fanfiction#loki fanfiction#fanfiction#thor and loki fanfiction#shapeshifting loki#loki as a puppy#thor and warrior three#thor and sif
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Christian Harry Potter - chapter one
Alrighty everyone. Here is chapter one (of fourteen). Italics are "authors notes". Enjoy!! @nothingelsemakessense Author's Note: Hello, friends! My name is Grace Ann. I'm new to this whole fanfiction thing; but recently, I've encountered a problem that I believe this is the solution to. My little ones have been asking to read the Harry Potter books; and of course I'm happy for them to be reading; but I don't want them turning into witches! So I thought….. why not make some slight changes so these books are family friendly? And then I thought, why not share this with all the other mommies who are facing the same problem? So-Ta da! Here it is! I am SO excited to share this with all of you! So, without further ado- Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Harry Potter who lived under the stairs in a house on Privet Drive with his aunt and uncle. He was a good, obedient boy who did all his chores; but he felt that there was something missing in his life. Something big and special; but he could not quite name it. He stayed up every night; and wished for this special something; but then one day, there was a knock at his door-and everything changed. "Answer the door, Harry!" his Aunt Petunia, a career woman, barked from her armchair where she sat with her feet up. She had short, curly blonde hair and never wore any makeup. Uncle Vernon nodded sheepishly from the kitchen; and put a tray of moist, chocolatey brownies in the oven. Shouldn't you be doing that? Harry thought; but he was a very obedient young boy, so he answered the door right away. He turned the brass, metal doorknob; and pulled open the heavy, wooden door. On the porch was standing a huge, muscular man with a big, manly beard; and he was dressed in a plaid, red shirt, blue jeans, and sturdy, leather boots. His chest was covered in a thick, unruly carpet of coarse, brown hair. He wore a necklace that looked to Harry like a lowercase T. Just looking at Harry feel happy, peaceful somehow; but he couldn't say why! "Good morning, kiddo," the man greeted amiably; and smiled at Harry. He had the peaceful, friendly sort of face you just knew you could trust. "My name is Hagrid. Could I speak to your mommy and daddy?" "I don't have a mommy or daddy," Harry replied sadly; and looked at his raggedy, old shoes that were blue. Perhaps that was why he felt so lonely, he thought, not for the first time. Maybe that was what he was missing-a mommy and daddy. But no, that was not quite right. "I am so sorry to hear that!" Hagrid uttered empathetically. "You can speak with my auntie and uncle," Harry retorted politely; and blinked his big, blue, childlike eyes. "What do you want?" Aunt Petunia peered out the door with her narrow, suspicious eyes; and she was wearing a baggy, unflattering pantsuit. "Hello, neighbor! I was wondering if you have been saved," Hagrid exclaimed brightly; and tipped his wide-brimmed, straw cowboy hat. Aunt Petunia laughed a gravelly laugh; and leaned forward on her sturdy, practical boots. "Saved? Don't tell me you are you one of those Christians?" Harry did not know what that word meant; but Hagrid's smile was the most peaceful smile he had ever seen. It made Harry feel warm and happy inside just seeing the glowing, radiant grin on the kind, friendly stranger's face. He wondered why Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon did not smile like that... "Yes, I am," Hagrid replied kindly. "Are you?" Aunt Petunia laughed again; and stuck her pointy, sharp nose up in the air. "We are too smart for that. Haven't you read Dawkins? God is dead! Dawkins proved that. Would you like us to educate you on the Dawkins?" "What is a Christian?" Harry queried innocently; and scuffed his shoe on the shaggy, yellow carpet which had not been vacuumed in quite some time. "Christians are people who want to be good," Hagrid explained wisely; and crouched down so he was on eye level with Harry. "We want to go to heaven after we die. Do you know what heaven is, Harry?" Harry shook his head; and his big eyes were wide and curious. "Heaven is a beautiful place where we can be with God." Aunt Petunia smacked her hands over Harry's young ears; and her voice was sickly sweet when she said, "Thank you very much for your concern, sir, but he does not need your religion, he has science and socialism and birthdays. Haven't you heard of Evolution? I have a very good textbook on Evolution that I could give you on it if you would like to learn things." Hagrid laughed wisely. "Evolution is a fairytale. You don't really believe that, do you?" "Yes, I do!" Aunt Petunia screeched. "Well then prove it!" Aunt Petunia could only stare at him; and her big mouth hung open dumbly. Here she thought she was so educated; and always demanded that Christians prove what they believed in; but she couldn't even prove her own religion. It was then that Harry knew who the smart one here was! "Tell me how to get to this heaven place!" Harry cried wistfully, clasping his hands together. Sometimes, the wisdom of little ones is really amazing. We think we grownups know it all; but then God speaks through the mouths of little ones; and shows us how we are all mortals struggling along the path of life. Humility. "All you have to do is be saved. Do you want to be saved?" "I do, I do!" Harry squealed, jumping up and down. "Then pray the sinner's prayer!" Aunt Petunia tried to stop him; but she was powerless against Harry's pure, innocent, holy energy. Soon, Harry had said the prayer. Hagrid beamed happily. "You're a Christian now, Harry!" Hagrid cried proudly. Harry smiled but then interrogated, "But how do I be a Christian? I don't know how!" Hagrid grinned widely. "There is only one place to learn that-Hogwarts School of Prayer and Miracles!" Author's Note: SO what do you all think? I may not be a professional writer; but I think I am being given the talent to pull this off in service of a greater mission =) Blessings! - Grace Ann ... Discuss ... Chapter two will be posted in approx 24 hrs 😊😊
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There's something so unnervingly bitter sweet about looking at my camera roll's "one year ago today" feature, with tomorrow being the "anniversary" of when I travelled to Munich.
I didn't know it then, a year ago today, that that would be the final place I visited. I could sense that things were getting dire and there was a chance my location would go remote. I even made a tongue-in-cheek Instagram post about covid cough on the train. But there's something so sad about it being my final weekend abroad, and I didn't spend it in Prague. I don't know if I'll ever stop mourning what could've been. Next Saturday is the one year anniversary of my return to the States. A year into this global pandemic and the end is finally coming into sight—but it's still months away. I cannot even begin to process that it's already been a year, and I wonder if I will ever be able to process the grief this past year has brought me.
On March 5th I went to Munich, with plans to visit London, Amsterdam, Vienna, and a field trip to Karlštejn in the coming weeks. On March 8th I returned home, we would have remote class sessions moving forward. On March 10th I went shopping and bought a few dresses: one for an opera I would never attend and two others for a spring break in Greece that would not come to pass. I took a photo of a building I thought was pretty because I had the feeling I might not get the chance to do so again. That night, I was reassured that despite the closing of our campus, our dorms would stay open. On the 11th, I went out to dinner at my new favorite restaurant.
at three in the morning local time I learned Trump had given a speech— travel from Europe to the US would be henceforth halted. Three hours later my best friend was getting into a taxi headed to the airport, the sunrise was beautiful and I was heartbroken. I fell asleep and woke up around 3 pm. The dorm was in chaos— RA's were knocking door to door taking a survey: are you returning home? I told them no. My dad is high risk, I want to stay as long as possible. They came back a few hours later: are you sure? my response: Yes. An hour later: I'm sorry but you'll need to leave, please go to campus and they'll arrange you the next available flight home. It's 5 pm now and I need to get there before 6.
On the way there I take photos and videos of my every day life I had neglected to record: the long escalator into the subway, the announcement of the closing doors, the tunnel that gave me a shortcut to campus (as long as a the door was open), The exterior of the NYU buildings. I had just purchased a transit pass to last me the rest of the semester a few weeks prior, this is the last time I'll use it. All said and done, in less than 3 hours I had gone from "I'll stay as long as I can" to "my flight leaves for the US in fourteen hours." I make it out in time to record a video of the Astronomical Clock striking the hour, a video I hadn't thought to take yet. A friend invites me to watch the sunset with them— I inform them I won't be able to make it before dark, they invite me to dinner/a farewell party in their dorm. I accept. Instead of taking the metro straight home, I spend the last of my crowns on souvenirs and finish walking my normal path to the Tescos and buy some snacks and candy. I buy beer that I won't be able to legally drink back home for three more months, I buy a kinder egg that I forget is contraband. I take the tram home, this time it's empty and I get a seat. I nearly forget to record my stop announcement. A half hour walk later and I arrive in an area of Prague I hadn't had the chance to explore. I climb the ten flights to the shared kitchen common space. On a long table are the remnants of everyone's perishable foods. At some point a raspberry is squished onto my coat. Someone passes around a pint of beer and the last of their vermouth— the RA looks the other way. We pose for a photo wearing masks left over from the H1N1 epidemic a decade prior, the masks are expired but I still grab a few— just in case. We chat and laugh and play Jackbox games until 1 in the morning and I suddenly realize I hadn't spent any time with my classmates outside of lessons. I had intended to make friends and now it was too late. At some point, I walk home, alone. I still hadn't gotten the chance to pack and clean up my room. It takes me the remaining three hours but I finally get most of my possessions into my suitcase. I say goodbye to the sweatpants I bought when I was 16 and most of my jeans— I couldn't fit them and my new clothes and souvenirs both in the luggage.
At five am I wait outside for my taxi... it doesn't come. I call an Uber and make it to the airport on time. He drops me off at the wrong gate. The line for checkin is long. At 8 am I board a flight for Vienna, the friend who invited me to the get-together is on the same flight. I notice the plane has propellers on the engine. I take a photo. It's cloudy and I'm on the aisle so I don't get to see Prague as we depart. I finally get to rest. I only have an hour layover between flights and the plane taxis for a half hour. I sprint to the gate and make it in time to board the jet home. The man at the customs counter had stamped my visa. I briefly note to myself that my stay was so short I wouldn't have needed that visa. My friend's flight is headed to Chicago. Mine is to New Jersey. We split up and I'm suddenly flying on my own for the first time in my life. The plane takes off and I have a beer with my breakfast. The man in front of me orders a glass of red wine. He has three more throughout the flight. The baby in the row next to me starts crying. I have another beer. When the plane lands in New Jersey I learn the final leg of my journey home to Vermont is delayed. It's too windy for the small planes to land and they're only allowing a few at a time. I have wait an additional two hours in the airport. The Auntie Anne's pretzels give me a stomach ache. I try to take a nap but I'm afraid I'll miss my boarding call. My phone is dying. We board at 8. My dad is there to pick me up at the gate when we land just after 9. Then there's an hour drive back home, I almost ask if we could get chipotle— the only one in the state is 10 minutes from the airport. I forget to ask. By the time I arrive home and lug my stuff up the stairs it's 10 pm. I had been traveling for 20 hours. In just 48 hours I had gone from watching Shrek on Netflix with my best friend during an exciting semester abroad to sleeping on the couch in Vermont.
8 days later and I'm in the ER with a high fever and intense stomach pain. My mom fears it might be a kidney or liver issue, and calls the hospital. They tell me to stay home. She tells them I could be dying, and brings me anyway. they tell me it's just a digestion issue and give me a glass of water. Indigestion is apparently a symptom of the new virus. They ask if I have a cough, I tell them I had coughed the day before, once, but it was probably from my smoky environment. They "diagnose" me with covid. I'm denied a test, there's not enough to go around to be testing otherwise healthy people like me. "Call your GP if your symptoms worsen"; if I'm actively dying I can get a test. My symptoms do worsen. I fear for my family's safety. For a week I wonder if I'll stop breathing during my sleep. It winds me to walk from the bedroom to the bathroom. When I lay on my back my lungs make a rattling noise. Each exhale i make is accompanied with a small wheeze. I don't call my GP. I get better. And now it's a year later.
I still struggle with stairs and brisk walks. I can't tell if it's from wearing the mask or the extra weight I gained or irreparable damage to my lungs. If I pay close attention sometimes I notice my lungs feel weird when taking a deep breath. I'm eligible for a vaccine now, but getting it will prove easier said than done. They say people who already had it only need one dose. Did I have it though? I wasn't given a test. Graduation is cancelled.
#on the bright side though I returned home in March and was able to have a shamrock shake#my writing#personal#covid
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